


Be Your Fire When You’re Cold

by DRHPaints



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, The Skeleton Twins (2014)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Blow Jobs, Caretaking, Depression, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mental Health Issues, Moving In Together, Power Play, Psychiatric Treatment, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Switching, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25798648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Milo Dean meets Ben during his stay at a psych unit while recovering from his recent suicide attempt.
Relationships: Milo Dean/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will add tags for this as I go along, but my intention is that this fic will likely go to some pretty dark places, based in part on the character of Milo Dean, but also on my own personal experience with psychiatric treatment. So, that being said, if you are in a difficult place I ask that you take that into account before reading and know your own limits. 
> 
> Also, if you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, please seek help. Here are a few resources. I apologize that they are limited mostly to the US:
> 
> TrevorProject.org 1-866-488-7386 Crisis Line, directed mainly for LGBTQ+ youth
> 
> TransLifeline.org 877-565-8860 Crisis Line, staffed entirely by trans/gender-nonconforming people and serving the trans/GNC community
> 
> Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
> 
> National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255
> 
> Ask for help if you need it, folks <3

Sitting in the circle, Milo shifted uncomfortably in his chair, suppressing a yawn.

“Alright everybody, today we’re going to be discussing the importance of hygiene in maintaining good mental health.” The excessively cheery Mental Health Associate smiled, passing around a worksheet and smoothing her hands on her dark gray slacks before sitting down.

Accepting a sheet as they passed, Milo looked it over, arms crossed, and saw a cartoon sun in the upper right hand corner holding a toothbrush up to wide, smiling teeth.  _ Jesus fucking Christ, what are we, five year olds? _

“Now, many times when people find themselves depressed,” the MHA continued, peering around the group trying to catch an eye, but almost everyone stared at the floor. “They will stop taking care of themselves. This can look like forgetting to brush your hair, maybe you stop brushing your teeth, or even skipping a few showers.”

Milo tuned her out, deciding instead to stare out one of the permanently locked windows. He saw the sprawling hospital campus dotted with trees, some kind of bird he couldn’t identify flying high overhead. It was his third day and already he could tell all of these groups were time-killing bullshit. From ‘Learning Gratitude’ to Loving Yourself’ to ‘Proper Nutrition for Mental Wellness,’ he hadn’t learned a damn thing. People didn’t come to acute psych units to get better. They were just a cage to keep the tragically depressed and seriously disturbed removed from society, and the means of harming themselves, until they could be released into the wild again.  _ If only I weren’t such a melodramatic queer, I wouldn’t have needed a soundtrack for my Farewell Tour and I wouldn’t be here… _

The only reason Milo bothered attending the groups instead of staying in his room was that he learned after the first day that those who attended groups regularly were discharged sooner. Otherwise he’d gladly lay in bed staring at the wall until they let him go. Looking down at the bandages on his wrists, he was tempted to peel them off and examine his handiwork. But he knew that would probably prolong his stay as well, so he simply pressed on them from time to time when no one was around, finding the sting satisfying. 

MHA rattling off about the importance of dressing up ‘just for fun sometimes,’ Milo noticed over her shoulder a new person being wheeled onto the unit. Everybody rolled in with a wheelchair, whether they needed it or not, and this time it was a man with sandy blond hair, around Milo’s age, that same haunted look circling his green eyes that was etched on the faces of all who floated nearly lifeless down these hallways. An orderly disappeared with him down the corner and Milo turned back to the window, thinking of nothing and everything until the group came to an end and they were excused.

Shuffling down the wood panel floor in the hospital-issue blue treaded safety socks, Milo turned into his room, number 221 where some staff member or another had written ‘Milo’ in neat block script and drawn a small smiley face beside it. Pushing inside the door that didn’t lock, Milo halted, blinking when he saw a curled form on the bed opposite his own. It was the blond man who he’d seen entering earlier, curled on his side and facing the wall, apparently asleep.  _ Well, I suppose I was bound to get another roommate soon.  _ His last one was discharged the morning before, a large middle-aged man who seemed to permanently breathe with his mouth open and snored at an earth shaking volume. Milo could only hope this fellow would be easier to tolerate. 

Closing the door quietly behind him, Milo picked up the hospital copy of  _ Marley and Me _ and flopped onto the bed. They didn’t have a huge selection of books on the unit and this was the best one he was able to scrounge up. He was trying to stay silent, but every shift of his body squeaked the sheets against the slick surface of the almost plastic-like mattresses. 

Hearing his roommate’s mattress do its own crinkle, followed by socked feet hitting the floor, the man padded his way to their shared bathroom. When he returned, Milo peeked over his shoulder.

“Hello,” he said timidly. You never really knew if people wanted to talk in here. Hell, some people barely could talk. Or they held entire conversations with themselves. But the man just nodded, sitting back down on his bed.

“Hey.” He gestured half-heartedly to himself. “Ben.”

Rolling over to face him, Milo raised a hand in a little wave. “Milo.”

The corner of his mouth ticked. “Like ‘Milo and Otis’? I love that movie.” He glanced up and Milo scanned his face, the razor cut of his blond hair, the way his shoulders curved inward just so.  _ Gay. _

Milo grinned. “Me too. Unfortunately I’m too old to be named after it though. Apparently ‘Milo’ just means ‘mild’ or ‘merciful.’” He shrugged.

“Does it fit?” Ben raised an eyebrow.

Shaking his head, Milo sat up. “No, I’m a total bitch.”

Ben let out a laugh that was barely more than a strong exhale of breath out of his nose. “Well, ‘Ben’ means ‘blessed’ and you can see how well that’s going…” he peered around their room. Milo nodded. He wanted to ask Ben what brought him here. Wanted to tell him his story. After three days of repeating the same shit to robotic professionals it felt good to talk to someone who wouldn’t slap a 72 hour hold on him if he said the wrong thing.

Just then Milo heard the speaker crackle overhead. “Residents of unit 6A, dinner is now being served in the lounge. I repeat, residents of unit 6A, dinner is now being served. Thank you.” 

“Well…” he patted his thighs and he and Ben made their way toward the lounge. Milo hadn’t gotten used to eating at 5:30 yet. It made him feel like a senior citizen. Joining the line of other patients, they advanced slowly as they were handed their trays. To Milo it felt as though they were prisoners being doled out rations. Sitting down, Milo opened the lid of his dish to reveal a small, greasy cheese pizza which was surrounded by a mixed fruit cup, a cup of coleslaw in a little plastic container, two grape juices, and a chocolate pudding with a tiny dollop of whipped cream. 

Milo was pleasantly surprised when Ben sat down next to him. Looking over, he saw he had the ‘first night’ tray. A basic turkey sandwich wrapped in cellophane, an apple, and fruit salad, because he hadn’t been there to fill out a menu the day before. 

“Do you, um...want my pudding?” Milo held it out to him.

Ben looked down at it. “Really?”

Nodding, Milo set it down on his tray. “Yeah. I don’t need it anyway.” He reached down and grabbed a handful of his belly pudge with both hands.

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Ben waved a hand. “Thank you, though. I’m a sucker for chocolate.”

“You’re welcome.” Milo smiled. They finished their meals, and after sitting through two more groups’ worth of drivel, Milo was finally able to retreat to his room for the night. Opening his book and finding his place, Ben shuffled in a moment later. 

“Hey.” Milo gave a half smile. 

Ben nodded. “Hey.” Picking up the blank notebook every patient was given and a pen, he flopped down on his mattress and began scribbling furiously. He was halfway down the third page when Milo decided he couldn’t read another sappy paragraph.

“So you from around here?”

Ben’s pen stopped in midair as he turned to him. “Oh, yeah. East LA. You?” 

Milo nodded. “Yup. What do you do?”

Tapping the notebook with his pen, Ben grinned. “Writer. Well, trying to be, anyway. You?”

“Actor.” Milo rolled his eyes and tossed a fake mane of hair over one shoulder dramatically. That actually managed to get a genuine chuckle out of Ben and Milo beamed. 

“Are you any good?” Ben smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Milo sat up, running his tongue over his teeth. “I pretended to keep it together for over thirty years, so there’s that.”

Clapping, Ben dropped his head, a deep laugh rolling up from his chest. “In that case, I guess I deserve an Oscar.” He sat up too and leaned against the wall. “Not to mention all the years pretending to be straight.” Ben looked at Milo meaningfully.

Milo grinned, looking down and pulling at a loose thread on his sock. “Oh, I was never very convincing in that role. At best I’d win a Daytime Emmy.” 

Chuckling again, Ben shook his head. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve laughed in days. Weeks maybe.” A shadow settled over his face, eyes suddenly at least twenty years older.

“Yeah. Same.” Milo nodded knowingly. Hearing a knock at the door, they both turned to see one of the many Mental Health Associate’s whose names Milo could never keep straight open the door. 

“Okay, time for lights out, guys.” She smiled. They nodded and she wished them a good night. 

Standing up, Milo approached the light switch. “Ready?”

”Yup.” Ben pulled the thin blanket over himself. There was no need to change into pajamas when you wore scrubs all day. Flipping the light off, Milo walked through the semi-darkness to his bed and crawled inside, doing his best to get comfortable on the narrow mattress.

About an hour later, in fact exactly an hour later, as Milo had been counting the 15 minute bed checks whenever the staff would circle by, open the door, and peek inside, he was still wide awake. He still didn’t understand why they couldn’t just look through the little clear panel in the door to make sure neither of them were hanging from the ceiling. Why did they physically have to open the door, flooding the room with light and never closing it quietly enough when they left, every 15 goddamn minutes? And he found out the hard way on his first night that if you tried to sleep with a sheet over your head to block it out, hands would shake you awake to make sure you weren’t attempting to obstruct your own breathing.

Rolling over yet again, Milo ran a hand over his face and turned to look at Ben’s outline on the bed. He wondered if he was still awake. His breathing didn’t sound particularly deep, and he’d moved around a little, though not as much as Milo. When he saw him turn over and fold his pillow in half in an attempt to get more comfortable, Milo decided to risk it.

”Hey Ben, are you still up?”

“Yeah,” his whispered voice came across the room. “What’s up?”

Milo shrugged a shoulder even though he knew Ben probably couldn’t see him. “Nothing, just can’t sleep.”

”Me neither. Never can in this place.” He turned on his side to face Milo and he could see the faint outlines of his facial features.

“You’ve been here before?” Milo asked, turning on his side as well.

Ben nodded. “Lucky number three.”

Running a thumb over his wrist, Milo bit his lip. “Did you...you know...try? Every time?”

Shaking his head, Ben exhaled. “No. Last time a friend brought me in because I was talking about it and they got scared. Is this your first time.”

Milo nodded. “Yeah.”

“How are you dealing so far?” Ben asked, shifting a little on the bed.

“Oh I don’t know.” Milo responded. “I mean, I know I don’t want to be here, but that’s about it.”

“Do you want to be anywhere yet?”

Milo was silent for a while. “I guess I don’t know that, either. Some days I think I could make it through if I just...had something, you know? Something to look forward to or...or I don’t know, hold onto I guess. Other days...other days I’m just so angry I woke up here.” He swallowed hard and could feel tears stinging in the corners of his eyes, grateful for the darkness.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Ben said softly. “So much of the time it’s just like...what’s the point?” Milo nodded and a second later they heard the doorknob turn. Feigning sleep, the MHA peered in, briefly looking back and forth between their beds before shutting the door and continuing the rounds.

They talked until the sky turned from black to navy to gray, saying those things you can only say to someone when you can’t see their eyes staring back at you. Sharing and laughing, both shedding silent tears they chose not to mention to the other when the conversation cut particularly deep. 

Groggily opening one eye in response to the announcement that breakfast was being served, Milo rubbed his face and heard the shower running in their shared bathroom. Unbidden, an image of Ben soaping himself came to Milo’s brain and his morning erection twitched persistently against his leg. So far, masturbating in the hospital had been...an experience. Even when he had the room to himself he hadn’t been willing to do it in bed, worried it would conflict with a bed check and he’d get caught by a staff member. And even though he’d managed to get off in the shower, doing so when there was a foot of open space both above and below the door, and it didn’t lock for his ‘safety,’ didn’t exactly lend itself to the most erotic time. Plus, the strain of stroking himself hurt his still sensitive wrist, which made him think he should’ve tried pulling a Marilyn and taken a bottle of pills instead.

Ben emerged a couple of minutes later, droplets in his blonde hair and scrubs clinging to his body in places that only made things more difficult for Milo.

”Did I hear them call about breakfast?” He asked, scrubbing a towel against the back of his head.

Milo nodded. “Yeah, just a few minutes ago.”

Ben looked to the door. “You coming?”

“I just wanna shower quick first.” Milo gestured toward the bathroom. “Will you grab my tray and I’ll meet you there?”

“Sure, no problem.” Ben nodded, disappearing. 

Hopping out of bed, Milo grabbed a couple of towels from his cubby shelf and scurried into the bathroom. Peeling off his scrubs, he turned off the water and took himself in hand. Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would be like to be touched by Ben’s long, dexterous fingers, how his mouth might taste, how it would feel to get fucked up against the wall of this very shower. Coming quickly, he bit his lip and rested his forehead against the wall for a moment before cleaning himself up. After, he put on fresh scrubs and examined himself in the mirror.  _ Damn, these do nothing for my figure… _ He thought as he turned from side to side, running his hands over his love handles and frowning. On the bright side though, not being allowed access to sharp objects meant he’d grown some considerable sexy stubble, and as he traced his own sharp jaw he nodded in approval.

Making his way to the lounge, he sat next to Ben and opened his breakfast tray. “Thank you for getting this for me.” Milo said, scooping a forkful of eggs.

“No problem. Kept anyone else from sitting next to me.” Ben smiled at him and Milo noticed his eyes had little flecks of amber in them, as well as a touch of gray if he wasn’t mistaken.

After breakfast their first group was on the importance of maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Handing out yet another inane worksheet, the staff member stood in front of the circle.

“Now, one error many people can make, is that they spend too much time in bed. It’s important only to use your bed for sleep and intimacy. If you’re spending time in bed during the day, your body won’t understand when it’s time to go to sleep.”

Ben sat next to Milo, and under his breath he said, “Honey, if you’re only having sex at night I feel sorry for you.”

Milo had to turn his face away and swallow a giggle. Thankfully the group leader didn’t notice. They went through the rest of the groups that day much the same way, cracking jokes to one another and doing their best to get through. 

Milo was working on making a leather cuff bracelet in the occupational therapy group, focusing closely on painting his name with a stain when a staff member popped their head in the door.

“Milo Dean? Doctor Simmons for you.” Nodding, Milo screwed the lid back on the leather stain and followed her to the psychiatrist’s office. They met with the psychiatrist every weekday. Simmons was a white man in his 60’s with a bushy mustache who constantly referred to the chart in front of him and had never once looked directly at Milo. Milo could probably draw you a map of the liver spots peeking through the crown of his bald head, but he certainly couldn’t tell you his eye color.

“Hello, Mr. Dean,” he said as Milo sat down before him. “How are we today?”

Milo despised that phrase. ‘How are  _ we _ today?’  _ Well, Doc, I’m betting your wife is fucking her yoga instructor who actually pays attention to her while you’re at the hospital all day, but as for me, I just want to be dead. That’s how we are today.  _

But Milo plastered a fake smile on his face. “I’m feeling much better, thank you.”

“Good, good.” Simmons nodded. “So you think the medication is helping?”

Milo had only started taking it yesterday morning, but still he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“So how would you rate your suicidal ideation, on a scale of one to ten? One being lowest and ten being highest?”

He always found it condescending when they felt the need to remind him how numbers work. “I’d say a four.” Milo figured anything less than that wouldn’t sound believable.

Making a note in his chart, Dr. Simmons continued to nod. “Good. Better. Why don’t we meet tomorrow, see where you are, and possibly discuss discharge?”

Tomorrow was Thursday. Milo knew they didn’t like to keep people over the weekend if they could help it. Already he got anxious to get the hell out of there. “Sounds great, thank you.”

“Very good, Mr. Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Saying goodbye, Milo made his way back to occupational therapy with enough time to finish painting his name on the cuff bracelet, setting it in one of the cupboards to dry until their next group. 

It was just after 3:00 and they had ‘Quiet Time’ until dinner, which was code for ‘the staff needs to rotate and have a meeting, so go to your rooms and stay out of trouble so we can get shit done.’ Milo certainly didn’t mind though. Walking in, he saw Ben had beaten him there and was once again scrawling intently in his notebook.

“Hey there.” Milo smiled.

Ben grinned. “Hey.” He turned back to the page. 

Laying down with his book, Milo read the same sentence ten times before he decided to give up. “Hey, do you mind if I ask what you’re writing?”

Looking up, Ben scratched his chin with the pen. “Oh, I’m just working on a poem.” He smiled sheepishly. “But it’s coming out all depressing and shitty.”

Milo rolled onto his side. “Can I hear it?”

Ben blinked at him. “Really? You want to?” Milo nodded. “Well, um...I don’t want to read it out loud, though, so...here…” he held the notebook out to Milo, glancing away and chewing his lip. 

Accepting it, Milo realized Ben was entrusting him with something incredibly vulnerable as he scanned the paper. There were many crossings out and corrections, but he was able to make it out.

_ The walls don’t breathe anymore _

_ The air doesn’t shimmer _

_ No longer do the tendrils of time _

_ Tickle and tease _

_ Reaching out to tell me my place _

_ The wind doesn’t speak _

_ The couch doesn’t shiver _

_ A voice won’t provide the key _

_ To unlock a long held secret _

_ In my mind _

_ The world is flat _

_ Gray _

_ Absent _

_ Tired _

_ All because _

_ The walls don’t breathe anymore _

Milo read it three times, and even though he didn’t fully understand it, he could feel it. A deep, pained tearing in the empty space behind his heart that was supposed to be filled but was born vacant. Staring at it for a long time, Milo trailed his fingers over the words before handing it back.

“Ben, that was…” he cleared his throat. “Incredibly beautiful. And heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Ben looked down at the paper, then back at Milo, meeting his cobalt blue eyes. “You really liked it?”

“I loved it.” Milo pressed a hand to his heart.

Nodding slowly, Ben swallowed. “Wow. Thank you. That means a lot.” They were quiet for a long time, both studying the floor. “Well, I, um…” Ben cleared his throat. “I’m going to try to take a nap.”

“Okay.” Milo smiled. “Sleep well.” Ben rolled over and Milo returned to his book. About an hour later though, long after Ben’s breathing had grown slow and deep, Milo heard him whimper a little. Then Ben began thrashing against the sheets and calling out in a strangled voice.

“ _ No! No! Stop! Please! _ ” Looking like he was about to throw himself from the bed, Milo jumped up and leaned over him, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Ben!  _ Ben! _ Wake up! You’re having a nightmare, wake up!” 

Eyes snapping open, Ben looked around wildly, pushing Milo away from him frantically and scurrying back against the wall before things clicked and he recognized him. 

Milo saw that he was trembling. “I-I’m sorry, I thought...I thought…” Then he watched as Ben’s expression crumpled and he folded himself in half, face in his hands, body wracked with sobs. Hesitant to touch him, but wanting to provide comfort, Milo extended his hand and held the back of it against his knee. 

Pausing, Ben looked up, eyes red and watery and breath still catching, he lifted his scrub top to wipe his face. Then scooting timidly over to Milo on the bed he sat directly next to him, inclining his body toward him, but saying nothing. Milo held out his arms and Ben nodded, burying his face in the crook of Milo’s neck and wrapping his arms around his firm chest. Allowing one hand to curl into the short blond locks, Milo rubbed large, slow circles into his back with the other, rocking them gently.

Ben’s tears eventually dried and he pulled away, rubbing his eyes.

“Thank you.” Ben chewed on his lip, not looking at him.

Nodding, Milo rubbed his shoulder. “Of course.”

Ben’s emerald eyes locked into his, searching for a moment before leaning forward and brushing against Milo’s soft pink lips. Exhaling through his nose, Milo snaked a hand around to the back of Ben’s neck, holding him close while he tilted his head and parted his lips, tongue sneaking into Ben’s mouth to explore. Ben’s hand curled under Milo’s arm to grab one of his broad shoulders, the other combing through his wavy chestnut hair,

Just then Milo heard a hand on the doorknob and they separated with a comical puckering noise, Milo leaping back into his own bed, heart beating fast as the smiling face of a middle-aged brunette staff member appeared in the open doorway. 

“Just doing checks.” She gave a little wave, then closed the door and disappeared.

Milo pressed his hands to his forehead. “ _ Fuck _ .” Then he and Ben burst out laughing, Ben clutching his chest and throwing his head back in a cackle while Milo broke into high-pitched giggles, face scrunching, slapping his knee and falling over.

Composing themselves, Milo wiped his eyes. “Well, I really want to come over there and kiss you again,” he ground the toe of his sock into the floor. “But I think I’d have a hard time stopping and we’d end up getting caught.”

Ben nodded, smiling. “Yeah, that’s smart. Maybe we can try again after lights out.” He raised his eyebrows and Milo felt his stomach tighten in anticipation.

Days on a psych unit tend to go by slowly, but this was excruciating. Waiting through dinner, and the mind-numbing groups afterward, Milo found his leg jiggling uncontrollably, arms crossed and fingers tapping against himself. Watching him, Ben chuckled.

“What?” Milo asked when he noticed him looking.

Shaking his head, Ben just smiled. “Nothing.”

Last group ending, Milo strode back to their room, washing his face and brushing his teeth before Ben got back. It was a lame attempt to doll himself up, but considering the circumstances, it was the best he could do. Walking in, Ben smiled at him and sat down on his bed. Milo did the same and they coyly eyed one another, looking over every few seconds at the door, Milo’s leg bouncing. 

They heard a hand touch the doorknob and both their necks snapped to look. “Alright, lights out, fellas.” The staff member grinned, closing the door behind him. Rushing for the light switch, Milo flipped it off and they flew together, mouths fusing and hands roaming as they fell back on Ben’s mattress.

Spreading his legs to accommodate him, Milo let out a soft moan as Ben’s weight rested on him, and after a couple of minutes of rubbing against one another Milo felt Ben’s erection brush against his own. Digging his fingers into Milo’s hair and sliding a hand under his shirt to massage his skin, Ben ground down against him, a low groan resounding in his chest. Milo was tilting his hips up to meet Ben’s when he broke away.

“Okay, get back to your side. Quick.” He climbed off of him and Milo nodded, hopping onto his mattress and facing the wall to hide his massive erection. Seconds later, the door opened and the room was illuminated with the light of the corridor. Door clicking closed, Milo glanced at the tiny window to make sure all was clear and slid back underneath Ben, who caught his mouth instantly, long fingers crawling over him and making their way down his abdomen to begin palming him over the fabric of his scrubs.

Immediately Milo snuck his hand between them, working underneath the waistband of Ben’s scrubs and boxers, letting out a soft squeak of joy as he encircled his cock. It had been too long since Milo had a man on top of him, had a stiff cock in his hand, and he missed it desperately as he broke their kiss to lick his palm and began stroking.

“Oh  _ fuck _ , Milo…” Ben breathed, thrusting into his warm fist as Milo sped up. Gripping Ben’s cock hurt his wrist somewhat, but Milo was beyond caring as Ben kissed and nibbled at his neck, his own hand reaching in and beginning to tease the head of Milo’s cock with his fingers.

“Shit. Get back to your side. Now. Go.” Ben panted, peeling Milo’s hand away and pulling up his scrubs. Just managing to settle into a convincing sleeping position, the door cracked open yet again.  _ Damn, his timing is good. _ Milo supposed Ben became proficient at internally estimating the length of fifteen minutes after being there so many times.

The door closed and the room returned to semi-darkness.  _ Fuck this.  _ Pouncing, Milo pressed Ben back onto the mattress, tugging his scrubs and boxers down his thighs and knelt between his legs, taking half his length down his throat. Hollowing his cheeks, Milo bobbed up and down, using his wrist in tandem, his free hand fondling Ben’s balls while he pressed his tongue firmly against the underside of his cock.

“ _ Fuck _ , Milo.” Ben gasped, extended fingers worming their way into his hair as his hips began lightly thrusting against Milo’s face. Taking him deeper, Milo increased his speed, humming around Ben’s cock and twisting his wrist with every upstroke. Ben rocked into his throat, grabbing the pillow to muffle his own moans as Milo’s ministrations overwhelmed him, jerking forward as his cum shot down the back of Milo’s throat. Swallowing, Milo rose and wiped his eyes, kissing the tip of Ben’s cock briefly while he was catching his breath.

“Go, go.” Ben gestured weakly toward Milo’s bed. Scrambling over, Milo laid down and fought to keep his hands off his painful throbbing erection while he waited the couple of minutes for the Mental Health Associate to come poking in. Soon they did and he closed his eyes until he heard the click of the door. Immediately upon opening them, Ben was on top of him, and before Milo knew what was happening Ben’s warm, wet mouth was sucking hard on his cock, the head hitting the back of Ben’s throat as he took Milo’s cock as deep as he could.

“ _ Oh fuck, Ben, yes! _ ” Milo hissed in satisfaction, fingers twirling in his blond hair. Ben pulled off for a moment to suck his balls, tugging him frantically, and Milo whined.

“Could you...Could you put your fingers in me? Please?” 

“Yeah, hang on.” Working as fast as he could, Ben spit on his fingers, rubbing them against Milo’s entrance before sliding the middle and ring in as deep as possible, taking Milo’s thick cock back into his mouth and sinking down as he pulsed inside of him.

“ _ Yeah, fuck, Ben, just like that.”  _ Milo whined, rocking back against his hand and forward into his mouth until he clenched around his fingers and his body shuddered, coming hard, eyes rolling and whimpering as he writhed under Ben’s handiwork.

Extricating himself, Ben rushed to the other side of the room and Milo got his pants up just in time as the door popped open once more. Breathing heavily, the darkness descended and they turned to face one another.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Milo smiled at the space between them.

Ben nodded. “Hell yeah.” He outstretched one long arm. “I wish I could sleep next to you, though.”

Hooking their fingertips together, Milo beamed. “Me too.”

“Someday.” Ben traced one of Milo’s fingernails. “Soon.”


	2. 2

Before he even opened his eyes, Milo felt his lips spread into a smile. It was the first time he’d started the day smiling in...weeks? Months? For all Milo knew, it could’ve been decades. Blinking against the light streaming into the room, Milo raised his head and looked down at the wet drool spot on his pillow, scrunching his face in disgust and flipping it over. Peering around with one eye open, he saw that the room was empty and glanced at the clock. He’d slept through breakfast and the first group was already underway. Shuffling down the hall and rubbing his face, Milo got his meds and tray from the nurses station and ate alone in the lounge, able to hear the ticking of the clock in the silent room that was usually filled with the sounds of plastic ware scraping plates and the subdued murmurs of other patients.

Dragging himself to the group room, Milo took the only chair available, disappointed that it wasn’t next to Ben, but relieved when he flashed him a broad smile as he sat down. Milo was only there long enough to glean that today’s group was about Setting Boundaries when one of the Mental Health Associates leaned over next to his chair. 

“Milo, Dr. Simmons is ready for you.”

Nodding, Milo stood and pulled up his scrub pants. He fully understood why they weren’t allowed belts, but constantly hiking his pants up his ass was starting to drive Milo even crazier than he’d been before arriving.

Flopping down in the office, Milo smiled at the doctor’s familiar bald patch.

“Hello, Mr. Dean. How are we today?” He shuffled through the papers on his desk, apparently locating Milo’s file and scanning it perfunctorily.

Milo nodded. “Doing well. Feeling pretty great, actually.” For once, Milo didn’t think he was lying. Carrying an airiness with him this morning, a secret glow inside, was like having a suit of armor on against the shadows that haunted these corridors, and Milo was grateful.

“Good, good. And how would you rate your suicidal ideation, on a scale of one to ten? One being the lowest and ten being the highest.”

“One.” Milo said confidently.

For the first time ever, Dr. Simmons flicked his eyes up at him. Milo was surprised to see that they were a stunningly pretty shade of gray. “Really?” He asked, studying Milo’s face.

Nodding, Milo grinned. “Yes. I feel really good about things.”

Dr. Simmons narrowed his eyes for a second, but ultimately nodded. “Well, Mr. Dean,” his gaze returmed to the paper. “I don’t see why we can’t discharge you today then.” Swelling, Milo tried not to appear too excited in case the doctor would retract his offer. “It takes a couple of hours to complete the exit paperwork and order your home meds from the pharmacy, but you should be home by this afternoon.”

Milo smiled. “Great, thank you doctor.”

“Of course, Mr. Dean. I wish you well.” Lifting a hand in a lazy wave, Dr. Simmons did not look up as Milo left his office, scurrying down the hallway. The first group ended and they were in the middle of their ten minute break before the second one began. Scanning the meeting area, Milo saw no sign of Ben, so he rounded the corner to their room, catching him just as he emerged from the bathroom.

“Hey there, sleepy.” Ben grinned. Peeking out of the door panel and determining the coast was clear, he leaned forward to kiss Milo, pushing him gently against the built-in cubby, Milo’s hands grasping both sides of his face greedily for a moment before they parted. “How was your meeting with the doc?” Ben tugged on the front of his scrubs, sighing contentedly.

Biting his lip, Milo did a little hop and swung back and forth joyously. “I’m going home today!”

Then he watched as Ben’s mouth settled into a hard line. “Oh. That’s great.” Giving a forced smile, he looked away. Milo deflated. He’d been so excited about the idea of fresh air, his own bed, a smoke, a stiff drink; he hadn’t considered what it would be like leaving Ben here alone.

“Hey,” he hooked a hand behind Ben’s neck, stroking his hair. “You’ll be out in a few days at most, right? And then we’ll get together.”

Ben’s fingers wrapped around his forearm. “You really mean that?” He chewed his lip.

Milo blinked at him, then reached forward to tip up his chin so those green eyes met his own. “Absolutely. In fact, we should exchange numbers now.”

Smiling, Ben grabbed his pen and notebook, jotting down his phone number and ripping off the scrap of paper before handing it to Milo. “You’ll have to memorize that.” Scrunching his eyebrows, Milo was confused. “Oh, haven’t you noticed? They go through all our stuff during the groups.” He gestured around the room. “I made friends with a woman I met my first time in here and we exchanged information, but when I got home it was gone. They threw it away because they don’t think it’s appropriate for people to make connections while in treatment.”

“ _ What? _ ” Milo brought a hand to his chest, looking around the room feeling scandalized. Glancing down at the piece of paper in his hand, Milo frowned. “Fuck, I’m so shitty with numbers.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Here.” Ben smirked and he grabbed for the hem of Milo’s shirt.

Milo flinched away. “What’re you doing?”

Moving his pen in the air, Ben grinned. “I’m going to write my phone number on you where they can’t see it. That way you don’t have to memorize it.”

“But I don’t like my belly…” Milo wrapped his arms around it protectively.

Ben shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re so beautiful.” Lowering his arms, Milo allowed Ben to lift his shirt and he scrawled his phone number high on his tummy, the pen tickling a little as the fourth digit was interrupted by his trail of black hair. “There.” Ben smiled down at his handiwork, rubbing his hand lovingly over Milo’s little pudge.

Overhead they heard the announcement for occupational therapy group. “Remind me to give you my number after.” Milo patted Ben’s shoulder and he nodded, both of them making their way to the group room. Pleased that he had just enough time to finish his leather cuff bracelet before time ended, Milo was told he could bring it back to his room to dry before he left. 

Halfway through lunch, which Milo wasn’t particularly hungry for since he’d eaten breakfast late, a staff member came to sit next to him. “Alright, Milo. I’ve got your discharge paperwork here.” She flipped through the sheets in front of him, showing the appointments they’d set up with a therapist, psychiatrist, and social worker on his behalf. “Now, do you have someone coming to pick you up, or do you need a taxi voucher?”

“Uh…” Milo honestly hadn’t considered how he was getting home.  _ Maybe because I don’t remember coming here in the first place.  _ Shaking away the thoughts of that night, Milo turned to her with a smile. “A voucher would be great, thank you.”

“No problem.” She grinned. “Once you finish lunch, pack your things and hopefully by then we have your meds from the pharmacy and we’ll call your ride.”

Milo nodded. “Great.”

Finishing lunch, he and Ben made their way back to the room. Milo gave him his number and Ben quickly committed it to memory, shredding the paper and tossing it. Packing his things, Ben wrapped his arms around Milo from behind as he shoved his meager belongings into the plastic drawstring bag provided by the hospital, pressing a kiss to the base of his neck.

“Going to be a lot less interesting around here without you.” He murmured, brushing his cheek against him and Milo could feel the light scrape of his stubble. 

Spinning, Milo draped his arms around Ben’s neck. “Well, you take care of yourself,” he pushed back his sandy hair. “And in a few days, when you're ready, I’ll be waiting.” Ben grinned and took a glance at the door, joining their lips briefly.

Hoisting his bag, Milo polished one of Ben’s cheekbones. “Alright, come on, beautiful.” Ben slapped his ass. “You can’t stick around here on my account.” Milo smiled and went to the nurses station. They gave him a pair of disposable slippers, as Milo had come in without any clothing or shoes, and called him a taxi. Giving a discreet wave in Ben’s direction as a staff member swiped their key card to open the door, Ben raised a hand and smiled back sadly.

”Well, no offense, but I hope we never see you again, Milo.” The Mental Health Associate smiled as the cab pulled up. 

Certain they considered that clever, Milo grinned and nodded. “Thank you.” Climbing into the car and passing the driver his voucher, Milo let out a deep breath, desperately wishing he had a pack of smokes, even though he knew the driver wouldn’t allow him to light up anyway. He watched as the city flashed by, feeling an unexpected rawness, as if he were a crab crawling toward a new shell for the first time.

Walking into his apartment, Milo scrambled for the kitchen table, snatching up the pack of cigarettes in shaking hands and unearthing one, sparking it immediately. He wasn’t allowed to smoke inside, but he didn’t give a shit. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” He dropped his head back, eyes closed, exhaling a tumbling plume. Honestly it tasted disgusting after a few days without one, but he powered through. Plugging in his cell and turning it on, Milo saw he had eight voicemails and about a dozen texts. Holding the phone up to his ear, most of the voicemails were from the restaurant, the last of which saying if Milo didn’t show up for that day’s shift, don’t bother coming back at all. Milo sighed.  _ It was a shitty job anyway.  _ The other voicemail was a recording offering him a timeshare and he deleted all of them. Scrolling through the texts, they were all from Tara, of course, the tone getting progressively more concerned as she got no response. Composing a long message explaining himself, Milo sent it off and set his phone down to charge.

Slightly light headed from the cigarette, Milo lit another and swayed into the living room. That’s when he saw it. The fish tank. Half a dozen orange blobs floating lifelessly at the top. Gasping, Milo rushed over, covering his mouth.  _ How could I forget about them? _ Not once had it occurred to him in the hospital that they were stuck here in the apartment, swimming in circles, slowly starving…

Suddenly Milo was on the floor, cigarette shaking in his hand as he rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face.  _ Why am I so upset? They’re just fucking fish. You eat fish all the time, you sappy idiot. _ But he began to sob with such intensity that Milo had difficulty catching his breath, pulling the collar of his shirt over his face to hide from his own sorrow. 

Calming, Milo sniffled, cold inside as he looked around the messy apartment.

“Ah fuck!” The cigarette burnt his fingers and he dropped it on the carpet.  _ Oh well, I kissed the deposit goodbye a long time ago.  _ Picking it up, he went to flush the butt down the toilet but froze a few feet from the bathroom. The white tile floor was stained a deep pink, still wet, and Milo could feel the carpet outside of the entrance squishing under his thin slippers. Stepping forward cautiously, he saw deeper shades of pink crusting around the floor’s edge. Milo peered into the tub. A red ring surrounded the drain. He could smell it in the air, that coppery scent, like a bag full of pennies. Could taste it in the back of his throat. An image of his own gray-skinned body being hoisted from the tub by a stranger, flopping lifelessly like a fish, came unbidden to his mind and Milo soon found himself crouched over the toilet, heaving up his hospital-issued lunch.

Unspooling some toilet paper to wipe his mouth, he tossed it in the bowl and flushed, quickly leaving the bathroom and throwing himself in bed. Milo knew he would have to face it again, would have to get a bottle of bleach and a scrub brush and get on his hands and knees to erase the evidence of his own attempt, but for now Milo couldn’t face it. 

Falling asleep for a few hours, when Milo awoke it was early evening and he felt disoriented. He was still wearing the hospital scrubs and looked down at himself in disgust, shedding them and pulling on a Debbie Harry t-shirt that was so well-loved the collar was separating, and a fresh pair of boxers. Seeing Ben’s number when he exposed his belly, Milo entered it into his phone, smiling. Peering in his fridge and finding nothing remotely edible, Milo phoned the pizza place, hoping they’d send the cute boy with the dimples, and noticed his cell had a voicemail.

“ _ Milo? It’s Maggie. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, the hospital called the house and left a message, but we were camping so I didn’t get it until today. I called them but they said you were discharged earlier. Please call me as soon as you get this. _ ”

She sounded upset, so with a sigh Milo hit redial and after two rings he heard Maggie’s familiar voice over the line.

“Hey Maggie, it’s Milo.”

“Oh my god,  _ Milo _ ,” she sighed in relief. “Thank goodness you called back. Are you okay, what’s going on?”

Leaning back against the counter, Milo cracked his neck. “I’m fine, Maggie. It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Milo, the hospital said…”

“Maggie, seriously,” he held out a hand to calm her even though he knew his sister couldn’t see him. “I’m okay. I was just being melodramatic and stupid. Plus, they set me up with a therapist and everything, so…”

”Oh, well that’s good.” Maggie was silent on the other end for a moment. “Is anyone there with you Milo? I mean, are you living alone? Because it’s no problem for me to come out there for a few days.”

Sighing, Milo rubbed his eyes. “Yes, I live alone. No, don’t come, Maggie. Really. I’m fine. Plus,” he smiled to himself. “I kind of...met someone new, so I think they’ll be coming around soon.”

“Met someone? When did you have time to meet someone?” 

Milo shrugged. “A guy in the hospital.”

Maggie was quiet for a long time. “Milo, do you think...you think that’s such a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” He clenched his jaw. Maggie had a way of talking to him like he was her fuck-up little brother even though she was exactly seven minutes older.

“I mean, Milo...don’t you think maybe it’s not the best time to be getting involved with someone? Especially someone who’s also...struggling?”

Shaking his head, Milo ground his teeth. “What would you know about it Maggie? You don’t talk to me in over ten years, and now you think you can tell me how to live my life?”

“I wasn’t the one who stopped talking, Milo…”

“You know what? I don’t need this. Bye Maggie. Maybe we’ll catch up again in another decade.” Milo hung up, tossing his phone on the counter and running his hands over his face. 

Just then the pizza arrived.  _ Not even lucky enough to get the hottie.  _ Milo thought as he handed over the money, choosing to eat over the box standing at the counter. Still upset from his interaction with Maggie, Milo wiped his greasy fingers on his shirt, picking up his phone and dialing Ben’s number.

“Hey  _ Ben _ ,” Milo drew out his name coyly. “This is Milo, that tasty piece you picked up in crazy town. I know you don’t have your phone yet, but I wanted you to have something pleasant waiting for you when you got it back. Looking forward to hearing from you. Talk later.” Hanging up, Milo smiled, hoping the message came off as cute as he intended. Tossing the pizza box in the fridge, Milo slapped his own cheeks lightly to psych himself up, deciding he couldn’t avoid the inevitable any longer. 

Grabbing the garbage can and the mesh scoop, he skimmed the dead fish from the tank, tying the near overflowing bag tightly and pulling on a pair of sweatpants to haul it out to the dumpster. Rifling in his closet, Milo unearthed half a bottle of bleach and, tying a spangled purple scarf around his face and plastic grocery bags around his hands, set about cleaning the bathroom. He managed not to gag too much, going through three sponges and almost an entire roll of paper towels before deeming it livable. 

Glancing around the apartment, Milo suddenly found himself on a cleaning rampage, and three hours later, sweating and hands pruny, the place was spotless and the clock was ticking past two. Jumping in the shower, Milo stood under the stream for a long time, grateful to have his own shampoo again, as whatever swill the hospital provided made his chestnut waves feel coated in plastic. 

Scrubbing his hair with a towel, Milo selected a new shirt, David Bowie this time, and boxers before crawling into his clean sheets. Not especially tired and unsure what to do with himself, Milo slid a hand below his waistband and began palming his cock until he was stiff. Reveling in the fact that no one was going to open his door and peek inside, Milo took his time, teasing himself, imaging Ben’s long fingers, his warm mouth, his thick cock. 

Milo opened his bedside drawer to retrieve the lube and shrugged out of his boxers, sitting back against the headboard. Spreading some on the fingers of each hand, Milo inched two fingers inside himself, the other hand stroking his cock. Slowly he began to bounce on his own hand.

“ _ Fuck me, Ben! _ ” Relieved he no longer had to be quiet, Milo’s moans echoed around the apartment walls as he fucked himself on his fingers, hand flashing over his cock. 

“ _ Oh fuck, Ben, yes! _ ” With a high cry, Milo’s orgasm overwhelmed him, cum splattering his shirt as his head fell back, mouth agape. Cleaning himself up, Milo climbed under the covers, sated, and drifted off to sleep, confusing dreams of dead-eyed fish in swirling pink water and Ben’s hands frantically trying to keep him from drowning causing him to toss and turn until the dawn light broke through his apartment window.

***

Four days later, Milo was filling out an application for a restaurant three blocks away on his phone and trying not to scratch the healing wounds at his wrists. The nurse told Milo before discharge he could take the bandages off when he got home, and to keep them clean, that the stitches would dissolve on their own. But most importantly, she’d said not to scratch or pick at them. But the itching was maddening. Throwing his phone down, he took turns slapping them with the fingers of the opposite hand to get the sensation to go away, and Milo was relieved when it was replaced with a familiar sting. 

Scooping up his phone again to enter in his work history, it began buzzing in his hands and Ben’s name and number appeared on the screen. 

Smiling, Milo answered. “Hi there.” 

“Hey, beautiful.” Ben’s deep voice reverberated in his ear and Milo bit his lip.

He laid back in bed, crossing his ankles. “So you’re finally free?”

“Yup, they just sprung me.” Ben replied. “My friend Lolly is driving me home now.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her.” 

“So, um…” Ben was quiet for a moment. “I don’t want to sound like...well, whatever, but, um...are you free tonight?”

Milo grinned. “Yes. Definitely.”

“Great. Did you want to meet somewhere or…?” 

Sighing, Milo picked at his shorts. “Well, I don’t exactly have a car. I’m a pre-industrial gay.”

Ben chuckled. “That’s okay. I have one, I can pick you up if you want to go somewhere.”

_ Fuck it.  _ “Why don’t you just come over here?” Milo chewed his lip, waiting for Ben’s response.

“I was hoping you’d say something like that. Great. I’ll text when I’m on my way?”

Gathering his knees to his chest in excitement, Milo nodded. “Great, see you later.” They said their goodbyes and Milo hopped out of bed all a twitter, job application forgotten as he began rummaging through his closet. After showering and applying a bit of product to accentuate his dark brown locks, Milo tried on four different outfits, settling on a dark wash bootleg jean, a black v-neck t-shirt, and a maroon slim button up that he left undone, but rolled up to the elbows. Examining himself in the mirror, Milo considered applying a touch of eyeliner, but decided against it. Double checking to make sure his condoms weren’t expired, Milo flopped down on the couch to wait.

About 45 minutes later his phone buzzed and Milo fished it out of his pocket.

_ On my way. Be there in 15 or so. _

Grinning broadly, Milo looked around to see if there was anything he missed and soon the intercom buzzed. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s Ben.”

“Come on up. Number 221.” Milo pressed the button and, opening the door he leaned against the frame, hands behind his back as Ben’s familiar form came bounding up the stairs. He wore basic relaxed jeans and a black t-shirt, and Milo couldn’t help but grab him as soon as he was in range, catching his mouth in a kiss that was difficult to maintain because they were smiling.

“Come on in,” Milo took Ben by the hand and led him inside. “This is my humble abode.” He spun around in the middle of the kitchen. “It’s not much, but it gets the job done.”

Ben looked around and nodded. “It’s great. Very...you.” He smiled.

Tracing a finger over the edge of the counter, Milo bit his lower lip. “Well, would you like something to drink? Water or wine or...well I guess I just have water and wine. The New Testament special” Ben burst out laughing and Milo couldn’t help but join in, forgetting how much he missed the sound of their mutual mirth.

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want anything.” Ben waved a hand. Milo nodded, looking away from him and picking at nothing on the counter. Tentatively Ben took a step toward Milo, intertwining their hands. “Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. I want  _ some _ things.” Smirking, he pulled at the fabric of Milo’s shirt, drawing him near and catching his full pink lips. Milo’s large hands covered both sides of Ben’s face, licking into his mouth with abandon and tipping his head to deepen the kiss. Hands crawling up the back of Milo’s shirt, Ben kneaded his flesh as he walked them backward toward the bed, hoisting Milo up once his knees hit. 

Spreading his legs, Milo moaned lightly as Ben fit perfectly between his thick thighs. Ben’s scrambling hands pushed Milo’s button up from his shoulders peeling off his t-shirt, then reaching down to take off his own, and when he lowered himself, Milo gloried in the sensation. It had been too long since he’d felt a man’s naked flesh weighing him down. Snaking a hand between them, Milo fiddled with his zipper when Ben suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, um…” he swallowed, looking away from Milo. “There’s...there’s something I need to tell you first.”

Breathing hard, Milo licked his lips. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Well, we didn’t...we weren’t naked at the hospital so you didn’t see them, but...I have,” Ben clenched his jaw. “A lot of scars. From, you know…on my legs.”

“Oh,” Milo nodded in understanding, brushing back Ben’s hair. “Don’t worry about it. That doesn’t bother me.”

“Okay then, um…” Ben stood up from the bed, undoing his jeans. He looked away from Milo sheepishly before pushing them to the floor and Milo had to fight the urge to gasp. It looked as though the lower half of Ben’s body had been put through a blender. There were hundreds of slash marks. Thousands, maybe. Ranging from white, to pink, to red; fresh and angry.

Ben noticed Milo staring, crossed his arms and began to fold in on himself, trying to turn away. 

“Oh, Ben,  _ no _ ,” Milo got out of the bed, wrapping his arms around Ben and tucking his face into his neck, holding him and rubbing circles against his back. Then Milo slowly sank to his knees, examining Ben’s damaged thighs, tracing them delicately with his fingers. Trembling, Ben looked down as Milo began brushing tender kisses over every scar, and as his lips traveled over his patchwork skin, tears stung the corners of Ben’s eyes and he brought a shaking hand up to cover his mouth.

Rising, Milo wiped away Ben’s tears, pressing their foreheads together, nuzzling before kissing again. Milo layed back on the bed and Ben removed his jeans, tossing them to the floor. Rolling into a more comfortable position, Ben took Milo’s cock in hand, sliding the paper-thin skin up near his sensitive head and rotating his thumb over the drop of dew gathered at the slit. 

Encircling Ben’s cock in one sizable hand, Milo stroked him, aroused when he began rocking into his palm. Breaking their kiss, Milo stared into his emerald eyes.

“I want you inside of me, Ben.” He breathed. 

Ben’s nose flared and he shivered. “I want you so badly, Milo.” Kissing for a moment, Ben ground their cocks together, producing a tiny moan from Milo before parting. “Condom?”

Sitting up a little, Milo reached into the bedside stand, handing Ben a condom and the lube. Ben nodded, scooting down the bed and applying a generous amount of lube to his fingers. Circling Milo’s entrance with two fingers, Milo spread his legs wider and tipped his hips down, anxious. Smirking, Ben surged forward, curling his fingers and petting into Milo while his other hand teased his cock until Milo was fisting his hands in the sheets and ramming himself down on Ben’s fingers.

“ _ Fuck me Ben, please, please!”  _ He whined, and as Ben looked at Milo, head thrown to the side, pale skin splotched pink, dark body hair dewy with sweat, the thick curve of his cock almost purple, he was glad to obey. 

Slipping the condom on, Ben applied lube to himself and more to Milo before brushing the head of his cock over his entrance

”Ready?” Ben looked down at him and Milo nodded. Tipping his hips forward, Ben gradually sank into Milo and he arched his back, mouth dropping open. Milo missed being filled, and as Ben rolled his hips, he locked his ankles behind him and coaxed him near, aching to have Ben as close as possible as their bodies fell in sync. 

Kissing him, Ben moaned against his mouth, dexterous fingers sliding up and down Milo’s cock in time with the movement of his hips. Unsure how much longer he could hold on, Milo’s fingers dug into Ben’s back as he panted into his mouth, voice spilling out higher than usual.

“ _ Ben, yes, fuck me, don’t stop! _ ” Clutching Ben close, Milo’s eyes rolled and his mouth worked soundlessly, quivering as hot cum shot over his stomach. Milo’s body contracted around him and Ben groaned helplessly.

“ _ Yes, Milo, fuck! _ ” Final thrusts erratic, Ben deflated, gasping against Milo’s neck as Milo retracted all of his limbs, wanting to feel every point of contact as he rocked them back and forth. Ben’s hands creeped underneath Milo, hooking around his shoulders and tugging him in. Feeling his lungs compress, Milo didn’t care, aglow in Ben’s touch. 

Untangling, Ben got up to throw away the condom, returning and draping an arm over Milo, who turned to tuck himself into the curve of Ben’s body, drawing his hand up to kiss the knuckles before settling it against his chest. Ben’s exhales against his back lulled him, and for the first time since coming home from the hospital, Milo slept through the night.


	3. 3

Waking to the sensation of his hair being played with, Milo smiled with one eye open. “Good morning.” He muttered against the pillow.

“Morning.” Ben grinned. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Rolling onto his side, Milo stroked Ben’s arm. “Thank you.” He gazed into his soulful green eyes. “It’s nice waking up next to you instead of on a plastic mattress across the room.”

“Sure is.” Smiling, Ben leaned in and caught Milo’s mouth. Morning erection anxious below his navel, Milo tossed a leg over Ben, dragging him close and sliding a hand down to grip Ben’s cock.

“Mmm, someone woke up in a good mood.” Ben chuckled against his lips. Milo nodded insistently, pausing to lick his palm before pumping Ben hard and fast. Ben’s hands roamed over his pale skin and Milo was getting worked up, finally shaking his head in frustration and pushing him down on the mattress, crawling down Ben’s body and wrapping his lips around his leaking cock.

“ _Ah, fuck, Milo!_ ” Ben gasped as he sank down, consuming him like a starving man. Milo loved sucking cock, loved the sensation of his mouth being filled, the technique required, but what he loved most was the vulnerability. How Ben came apart under his ministrations, breath hitching, body trembling, Milo able to control his every response with just his mouth and hands, causing an orchestra of gorgeous sounds to pour from his curvaceous lips.

Ben was just starting to thrust into his throat when he tapped Milo on the shoulder. “Wait...wait…”

With a pop, Milo pulled off, still jerking him lightly. “What? Something wrong?” 

“No, no.” Ben swallowed, fighting for air. “Just...turn around. I want to do you at the same time.”

Tongue to his teeth, Milo smiled broadly, scooting his legs to the top of the bed and positioning himself accordingly. Ben’s long, knobby fingers took him in hand and his warm, wet mouth enveloped Milo’s cock, causing him to moan around Ben’s flesh. Working in tandem, it wasn’t long before they were rocking into each other’s mouths, spare hands buried in locks of hair, fighting to keep their mouths moving as broken whimpers and moans squeaked out around their bobbing lips.

Ben came first, guiding Milo’s head with one broad hand, hips pulsing against his sculpted jaw as Milo tasted his warm cum, swallowing greedily. Following not long after, Milo took Ben’s head in both of his sizable hands, rolling onto his back and ramming into his mouth wildly, eyes fluttering as he whined.

_“Oh Ben! Yes! I’m gonna cum!_ ” Back arching, he shot down Ben’s throat, writhing up and down and tearing at Ben’s sandy hair before falling back, limp.

Gathering themselves, they pulled on their boxers and Milo suggested they sit by the window for a smoke. Lighting two and passing one to Ben, Milo took a deep drag before ashing outside, the late morning breeze blowing it right back into the apartment.

“So, maybe, um…” He looked Ben up and down, crossing his legs. “I mean, I don’t mean to ‘kill the mood’ or whatever.” Milo flicked his wrist to the side. “But, um...I’m curious. What landed you in the hospital this time? I mean...mine’s pretty obvious.” Milo brandished his scars.

Ben offered a half smile. “Yeah…” He scratched the back of his head. “Well, for me it was pills. That’s how I usually try it.” Picking at his own thumb, Ben drew his mouth to the side. “That’s, um...that’s how my mom died, so...so I guess there’s a part of me that feels...I don’t know...cursed or something. Like I’m bound to end up like her whether I want to or not.” Swallowing, Ben looked away.

Milo nearly dropped his cigarette, mouth working open and closed in silence. Ben caught his expression. “Oh, um...sorry.” He rubbed his elbow with the opposite arm. “I know people get really uncomfortable when I talk about her…” Ben shrugged. “Let’s just change the subject.”

“No, Ben.” Milo leaned forward, grabbing his arm and looking between his green eyes. “I...my dad...he did it, too.”

Blinking, Ben shook his head. “No _way._ ”

“Yeah.” Milo nodded, taking a shaky puff of his cigarette. “But it was a bridge.” Nose flaring, he tapped off the ash. “We were 14. No one had any idea he was…” Milo blinked, shaking his head. “We just didn’t see it coming, you know?”

“We?” Ben asked.

“Yeah.” Exhaling a plume of smoke, Milo scratched one of his prominent dark eyebrows. “I have a twin sister, Maggie.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I have a little brother. John. We don’t talk, though. Haven’t for years.” 

Milo chuckled. “Same. Well, except the hospital called her when I was inside. So we had a chat the other night. It...wasn’t great.”

Smirking, Ben played with Milo’s pinky finger. “I can imagine.”

“So,” Milo extinguished his cigarette. “How old were you when it happened? Your mom, I mean?”

“Six.”

“Oh, honey, _six?_ ” Milo took his hand.

Ben smiled sadly. “Yup. But I didn’t find out until I was twelve.”

“What do you mean?” Milo tilted his head.

Puffing out his cheeks, Ben let out a slow breath. “The rest of the family lied to us. Told us her death was an accident for years. When I finally found out how she really died it...it fucked me up pretty badly. That’s when I started, you know…” Ben mimed a slashing gesture over his thigh. Milo nodded in understanding. They were silent for a moment, Ben finishing his cigarette, the sounds of the busy LA street floating up to them.

“I’ve, um…” Milo cleared his throat after a couple of minutes. “I’ve met a couple of people before who lost parents that way, but um…” he stared at his toes, twisting them into the carpet. “I never felt...close with them. Like this.” Bobbing his head, Milo faced back into the living room, crossing his arms over himself.

Pushing his knee cautiously up against Milo’s, Ben fidgeted. “Me neither. Milo, you...you make me feel really safe.”

Catching Ben’s eyes, Milo stood and crawled into his lap, making his long form as small as possible as he curled into his strong arms, brushing his light pink lips to Ben’s cheek and draping himself over his shoulders.

They didn’t know how much time passed holding one another, but at some point Milo’s stomach growled and Ben patted his ass.

“Hey beautiful, why don’t we go out and get some food, hmm?”

Smiling, Milo nodded and they got dressed, climbing into Ben’s beat up sedan. As he sped off toward the diner, Cyndi Lauper’s _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ came on the radio and Ben cranked it, winking at Milo. Windows down, they sang along together, badly, cracking each other up as they rolled to a stop at a red light and a car full of what looked to be college dudes turned to them with dumbfounded expressions. Milo just blew them a kiss as they pulled away, Ben’s head thrown back in laughter.

Arriving at a diner Ben said was one of his favorites, they sat down, holding hands across the table until a short, blonde woman with an excitable air came to take their order. Thanking her and passing back the menus, Ben turned to Milo.

“So, got any big plans this week?” 

Milo shrugged. “Well, job applications.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I got fired while I was in the hospital.”

Halfway through a drink of water, Ben dribbled a little down his chin as he set the glass down heavily. “What the fuck? They can’t do that. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Well, I didn’t tell anyone where I was.” Milo tipped his head from side to side. “So I can’t really blame them for thinking I just bailed. I didn’t like it there much anyway. It’s time for something new.” He nodded determinedly and Ben smiled. “Otherwise…” Pursing his lips, Milo looked off into the middle distance, mentally flipping through his schedule. “Oh! I have that therapy appointment the hospital set up.” He took a sip of coffee, before waving a hand loosely. “But I think I’m just gonna blow that off.”

Ben blinked at him, suddenly looking stern. “What?”

“What?” Milo pulled his head back, looking from side to side.

“You can’t just “ _blow off”_ therapy, Milo.” Ben clenched his jaw.

Raising an eyebrow, Milo smirked. “Are you serious? I mean..isn’t it all kind of...bullshit? I certainly didn’t find anything we did at the hospital helpful. And they sent us to a child psychologist after our dad that was just a joke.” He took another drink of his coffee.

Ben shook his head. “Yeah, well, hospitals aren’t really meant for facing your problems. They’re just a crisis center to hold you until you’re stable. But therapy is really, really important Milo.” Ben tapped the table with a finger for emphasis. 

“If you say so.” Milo shrugged. “You actually think it’s helped you?”

Stung, Ben sat back in the booth. “Yeah, I do, actually. I mean, I know I still struggle a lot of the time.” He held out a hand. “Hell, I probably always will, but Milo if you’d met me ten years ago…” Shaking his head, Ben ran a hand over his face. “I was a mess compared to where I am now. And that’s because I work with my therapist, take my meds, and go to all my appointments.” Drilling into Milo’s eyes unblinking, Ben pursed his lips. “It’s hard as shit, to be honest. And I want to give up a lot of the time. Or lie to them when I’m in a bad place, and sometimes I do. But please, Milo. Give it a try.”

Examining Ben’s earnest face, Milo traced the rim of his coffee cup for a moment before looking down and nodding. “Okay. I guess one appointment couldn’t hurt…” Taking Milo’s hand, Ben smiled.

***

Legs crossed and foot jiggling in the air, Milo stared around the small waiting room at the blue and white chevron wallpaper, clipboard in hand. It took him the better part of an hour to fill out the paperwork, and Milo struggled to understand why they would need some of the information, when the door opened and a tallish man in his mid-40’s wearing gray slacks and a vest over a lavender button up appeared with a warm smile.

“Milo?”

Standing and wiping his hands on his jeans, Milo nodded. “Yup.”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Mitchell. But you can call me Tim if you want.” Leading Milo down a circular hallway, Tim gestured to an open doorway and Milo entered a cozily appointed office with an overstuffed blue couch facing a leather chair. Glancing around, he caught sight of a small rainbow flag, as well as the trans flag on Tim’s desk. Walking further into the room, he looked up and down the packed bookcase. Most of the books were psychology volumes of course, but one shelf was dedicated to photographs, a couple of which showed Tim with a handsome man, one picture of them in matching suits, holding hands and smiling.

Milo picked up the frame, holding it out to him. “Are you gay?”

Tim nodded, hands in his pockets. “Yes. That’s my husband, Marcus.” 

The corners of Milo’s lips turned down appraisingly. “Cute.” Before replacing the picture and falling on the couch, crossing his arms and legs. 

Tim sat, adjusting his glasses. “Are you gay, Milo?” Tilting his head down, Milo shot his eyes up at him as if to say, _Honey, please…_ and Tim chuckled. “Alright then, well, our first session, unfortunately, can be pretty tedious. It’s a lot of going over your history and generally catching me up on who you are. But before we dive into that, do you have any questions?” Shrugging, Milo shook his head. “Alright then…” They went over Milo’s questionnaire for over half an hour, Tim asking clarifying questions every so often, and when they finally finished he set it aside and looked to him with a smile.

”Alright, that that’s out of the way, why don’t you tell me what’s going on in your life now?” Tim tilted his head.

Pulling his sleeves down over his wrists, Milo chewed on his lip. “Well, um...like I said, I just got out of the hospital a few days ago.” Tim nodded, and Milo fidgeted as he continued. “I’m applying for jobs because I got fired when I was in there.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of work are you looking for?” Tim asked.

Milo shrugged. “Just some shitty waiter job, it doesn’t matter really.”

“So I’m guessing being a waiter isn’t your life’s ambition?” Tim gave him a half smile.

“Oh god no.” Milo rolled his eyes. “I want to be an actor.”

Tim nodded. “That’s great. I’m glad to hear you have goals.” Milo saw him jot something down in his notebook. “What else is going on in your life?”

“Well…” Milo crossed his arms at the wrist, extending them out to his knees and folded under his bottom lip. “I just started seeing someone new.”

Grinning, Tim pushed up his glasses. “It seems like you’re excited about him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” Milo smiled to himself. “His name is Ben. We haven’t known each other long but...I feel a real connection with him like, I don’t know…” Milo shrugged.

Writing for a moment, Tim nodded. “Ben sounds pretty special. How did you two meet?”

Milo hesitated for a moment. “We were roommates in the hospital.”

“Oh okay, so he’s understanding about your struggles with depression then.” Tim gestured with his pencil.

Smiling with relief, Milo put his arms at his sides. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, obviously he has a hard time with that stuff, too. Actually I just found out the other day that his mom, um…she also killed herself.”

“Oh wow.” Tim blinked in surprise. “No wonder you feel so close to him. It’s hard to find someone who knows what it’s like to go through that.”

Folding his hands in his lap, Milo clenched his jaw. “Yeah. It is. And, um...he’s really sweet. And kind. And I just...yeah.” Milo tossed up his hands and grinned. 

“That’s great, Milo. I’m glad. I hope things continue to go well.” After a beat, and writing something else down, Tim looked up at him again. “How has the medication been going so far?”

Shifting uneasily, Milo dropped his gaze. “Oh, I, um...haven’t really been taking it…”

Tim tilted his head patiently. “Any particular reason why not?”

“I don’t think I need it.” Milo shrugged.

“So you’re happy with the way you feel most of the time?” Tim’s eyes seemed to pierce through Milo, and he thought back to himself sobbing uncontrollably on his living room floor just a few days beforehand.

Milo picked at his own thumb. “I guess not…”

“So do you want to give the medication a try? If by the time your next psych appointment comes up you’re not feeling any positive changes, you could talk to them about going off of it, or trying a different one.” Tim suggested.

“I don’t know…” Milo frowned. “I don’t like the idea of being dependent on a drug to get through the day.”

Tim laughed. “You’re a smoker, Milo.”

Giggling, Milo nodded and ruffled his hair. “I guess you have a point there. I suppose I could give it a shot. Not like I haven’t put worse things in my body.” Tossing a loose hand to the side, Milo rolled his eyes.

Smiling, Tim glanced at the clock. “Well, Milo, we’re almost out of time. Is there anything else you wanted to share before we wrap up?”

Shaking his head, Milo put his hands on his knees. “Nope, nothing I can think of.” 

“Well, okay Milo.” They both stood, and Tim extended a hand. “It was nice meeting you, same time next week?” 

Shaking it, Milo nodded. “Yup. Thanks, Tim. Nice meeting you, too.”

Making his way out of the office, Milo lit a cigarette while he waited for the bus, and he had to admit, he did feel slightly better.


	4. 4

Untying his apron and counting the days’ haul, Milo sighed. Having acquired yet another underwhelming job waiting tables, Milo spent his shifts with a falsely cheery smile plastered on his face, using his charm and sass to try and garner the best tips possible. Trying to tell himself it made for good acting practice, even Milo’s imagination wasn’t _that_ good as he waited outside of the restaurant. 

Ben was kind enough to pick him up after work, his ancient sedan rolling up after Milo waited for a few minutes, Ben’s slender form hopping out to open the door for him.

“Your chariot, m’lady.” With an exaggerated bow, Ben grinned and Milo started to giggle.

“Why thank you, my liege.” Curtseying, Milo climbed in and they sped off to his apartment, updating one another on their respective days. 

Getting in the door, Milo tossed his keys on the counter before spinning around to face Ben, who wrapped him in his lanky arms. “Mmm…missed you today, beautiful.” Leaning in, he captured Milo’s mouth in a languid kiss, winding their tongues together and slowly sneaking his long fingers up the back of Milo’s shirt.

Walking him backward to the bed, Milo kicked off his shoes and pulled Ben’s shirt overhead, giggling when his knees hit the mattress and he tumbled backward. Ben bent forward to undo Milo’s black work slacks, which today only had one ketchup stain, and yanked them off before shrugging out of his own. Settling on top of him, Ben ground his stiffening erection into Milo as he spread his legs. 

Breathing hard as Ben’s large hands roamed over his body and he moved above him, Milo buried a hand in his sandy hair, but found himself distracted. For some reason, he wasn’t getting hard. _Okay...anytime now…_

Ben’s fingers flowed down his body and landed between his legs, palming his soft cock and Milo broke away. “I’m sorry I…” Looking down between them, he shook his head. “I really don’t know what’s going on. This hasn’t happened to me before.”

Glancing down, Ben paused for a moment and then nodded knowingly. “ _Oh_ , did they put you on a new medication in the hospital?”

Milo furrowed his brow. “Yeah, why?”

“Which one?” Ben shifted to his side, resting on an elbow.

“Lexapro.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ben nodded. “Yeah. I was on that one a few years back and I had a similar problem.

“But…” Mouth working open and closed in frustration, Milo gestured to his own chest. “I _feel_ horny though!”

Ben chuckled. “Yeah, I did, too. I could even get hard half the time. But no matter what I did, I could not cum. I’d jerk it for an hour and fucking _nothing_.”

“Jesus.” Milo stared down at his cock accusingly. “So what? They expect you to not want to kill yourself when your dick doesn’t work? Great plan, doc.” Sitting up, Milo shook his head.

Rubbing his back, Ben kissed Milo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know how frustrating it is. Tell them at your next psych appointment and maybe they can put you on something else.”

Eyes wide, Milo brought a hand to his temple. “They fucking better, because this…” He gestured between his thighs. “Is _not_ an option. I need to be able to get off. I work in customer service, for gods sake. If I can’t have orgasms, I’ll start murdering people.”

Laughing, Ben sat up and wrapped his arms around him. “No one would blame you there.”

Folding into him, Milo brushed a kiss to Ben’s jaw. “Well, I can still take care of you, at least…”

“I don’t mind if we wait. Until this gets sorted out, I mean.” Ben combed back his hair.

“No.” Shaking his head, Milo’s big hand snuck beneath the waistband of Ben’s boxers. “I want to. Even if I can’t, you know...I still like doing it.” Kissing Ben, Milo rolled him onto his back as he lightly pumped his cock, peeling off his boxers with the other hand. Scooting down the bed, he took him into his mouth, light pink lips wrapping around Ben’s swollen head, sucking and flicking with his tongue before sinking down.

“Mmm...fuck Milo, that’s so good…” Ben groaned as he buried him in his throat, one thumb rubbing firm circles at the base of his cock as he bobbed. 

Pulling off and tugging, Milo licked his lips. “You want a couple of fingers?”

“Yeah.” Ben nodded insistently. “Yes, please.”

Spitting into his hand, Milo spread it over Ben’s entrance before inserting his long fingers inside and securing him back in his mouth. Pulsing his hand and hollowing his cheeks in unison, before long Ben was rolling his hips, knobby fingers tearing at Milo’s short dark waves as he moaned.

“ _Oh fuck, Milo! Fuck! Don’t stop! I love your mouth! Fuck! Fuck!_ ” Speeding up, Milo ensconced Ben in his throat, muscles undulating. Using three fingers to push into the spot between Ben’s balls and his entrance, Milo stimulated his prostate from the inside and the outside.

With an uncharacteristically high shriek, Ben’s fingertips dug into Milo’s scalp and he thrust into his face, body shivering as warm cum shot over Milo’s tongue. “ _Fuck, Milo, fuck!_ ” Ben repeated as he released his head and Milo rose, kissing his way up Ben’s body and curling up next to him. 

Once able to speak, Ben flipped onto his side, caressing Milo’s strong jaw. “That was great. Thank you, beautiful.”

“Anytime.” Milo winked, raising an eyebrow and Ben chuckled at him. Flipping around, Milo snuggled into his body, pulling Ben’s arm to his chest.

“So when’s your psych appointment?” Ben kissed the nape of his neck.

Milo sighed. “Next Tuesday.”

Nodding in the darkness. Ben massaged Milo’s chest. “Let me know how it goes.” Ben drifted off quickly, but pent up and unable to do anything about it, Milo laid in his arms for the better part of an hour waiting for sleep to claim him.

Around 3 a.m. when the streets of Hollywood were as quiet as they ever could be, Ben began thrashing. “ _No! Please! Stop it!”_

Waking and turning on the light, Milo saw his distress and, hands at Ben’s shoulders, began shaking him. “Ben! Ben, _wake up!_ Ben, you’re having a nightmare! Ben! _Ben!”_

With a startled gasp and wide eyes, Ben pushed himself up. Focusing at the end of the bed, an unholy scream tore through his narrow frame and he scrambled back against Milo, pointing frantically. “No! No! _You get away from me! Stay the fuck away!_ ”

Alarmed, Milo looked at Ben’s face, morphed into sheer panic as he trembled. “Ben...honey…” Milo reached up and placed a hand over his quivering, accusing finger. “There’s no one there…”

Shallow breathing and wide eyed, Ben blinked a few times, nodded, and settled back on the bed. Turning to Milo, Ben’s head whipped quickly to look at that same spot, then faced Milo slowly again. “I, um…” Ben’s voice shook. “I’m sorry about that.” Dragging a hand over his mouth, Ben tried to take a breath to calm himself. “Milo, I…I haven’t known how to tell you.” Swallowing, Ben wrapped his arms around his legs. “My, um...well, the diagnosis I have it’s...it’s something called schizoaffective disorder and so, I, um...sometimes I...I see and hear things that aren’t...that aren’t really there.” Eyes shifting nervously to Milo, Ben tightened his arms around himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I just...didn’t want you to give me that look.”

Tilting his head, Milo placed a hand on his shoulder. “What look, Ben?”

Face hardening, Ben shrugged Milo off. “The look you’re giving me right fucking now, Milo. The look like you think I’m fucking crazy.” Burying his face in his knees for a minute, when he lifted it Ben’s eyes were wet. “And I’m not, alright? I just...my brain plays these tricks on me and...and I can’t do anything about it. I mean…” He sniffed, wiping his face. “Sometimes the meds help, at least for a while. But other times they’ll just stop working for no reason and this stuff.” Ben gestured to the end of the bed. “It’ll just come back.” Shaking his head, Ben’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Milo. I don’t know what to do. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Laying his head down, Ben made himself as small as possible, sobbing.

Tentatively scooting next to him, Milo placed a hand on the small of Ben’s back, massaging gently and resting his head on his shoulder. “Ben, no, alright? No.” Milo wrapped his arms around him and rocked Ben back and forth. “I mean, I may not know what it’s like...what you’re dealing with and all. It sounds awful and I would do anything to take it away from you. But Ben…” Milo kissed the top of his head. “This doesn’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere, okay? And I definitely don’t think you’re crazy.”

Ben looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t?”

Milo shrugged. “If you are, we can be crazy together.”

With a watery smile, Ben wrapped his arms around Milo, resting his face against his chest as Milo lulled him back to sleep.

***

The waiting room of the psychiatrist’s office reminded Milo of when he first moved to LA and was forced to use the local food shelf. Overcrowded, bad coffee, no one looked like they wanted to be there, and it was painfully apparent they all fell in the lowest income bracket. Hearing his name from a tall male nurse who Milo enjoyed following back to the doctor’s office, he sat in the cramped room internally going over his list of things to mention. 

A tired-looking woman in her late 40’s entered, flipping through his chart. “Mr. Dean?” Smiling warmly yet wearily, she held out her hand.

“Yes.” Milo shook it and grinned.

“Great.” She nodded. “I’m Dr. Nichols, nice to meet you.” Adjusting her glasses, she looked up from his chart. “I understand you were recently inpatient?”

Milo nodded. “Yes.”

“And this was your first hospitalization? First attempt?” Dr. Nichols tilted her head.

“Yes.” 

Nodding, she made a note on her pad. “And the Lexapro, is this the first time you’ve been on psychiatric medication?”

“Yes.” Starting to feel like a parrot, Milo shifted in his seat as Dr. Nichols jotted his response.

“Alright then, how do you think things with the medication are going so far?”

Milo shook his head. “Not great. My stomach had been upset a lot of the time and I’ve been having some...other side effects, too.”

“Such as?” Dr. Nichols peered at him.

Taking a deep breath, Milo shifted his gaze. “Well...sexual ones.”

“Ah…” she nodded. “Yes, unfortunately those are very common with the escitalopram.”

Milo blinked. “The what?”

“The Lexapro. That’s just another name for it.”

“Oh.” Feeling foolish, Milo nodded. “Okay.”

Taking more notes, Dr. Nichols glanced up. “How has your mood been?” 

Shrugging, Milo crossed his legs. “A little better, maybe.”

“Suicidal thoughts? How are those?”

Milo tipped his head back and forth. “Mild to moderate, I guess. Most days are okay.”

“Any self injury or thoughts of self injury?” Dr. Nichols asked as her pen skidded over the paper.

Milo shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Well,” Dr. Nichols sat back. “That’s good to hear. Do you think these side effects are something you can live with?”

Milo rolled his eyes. “Oh girl, _no._ ”

Chuckling, Dr. Nichols nodded. “Perfectly understandable, Mr. Dean. I’m thinking we should try Bupropion. It’s a newer class of drug, an atypical antidepressant, not known for sexual side effects, and known for having fewer side effects in general. Also…” Her voice trailed off as she paged back through Milo’s chart. “Ah yes, I thought I remembered that. I see here you’re a smoker. Some people have found it helps them quit.”

“Really?” Milo raised an eyebrow.

Dr. Nichols nodded. “Yes, apparently it curbs the cravings to smoke, so it might be worth thinking about giving it up.” Smiling at him, she grabbed her prescription pad. “Does that sound like a good option to you?”

“Um, sure.” Milo nodded. That sounds good.”

Dr. Nichols scribbled on the pad. “Well, the most common side effects with Bupropion are usually mood related. If you start feeling more suicidal, please call and make an earlier appointment and tell your therapist. I’m going to start you out at 75 mg for the first week, then I’d like you to increase to 150. You can discontinue the Lexapro.”

“And, um…” Milo bit his lip. “How long until things, you know…” He glanced down. “Go back to normal?”

“Hmm…” Dr Nichols swiveled over to her computer, typing quickly and narrowing her eyes at the screen. “It seems the half life is 27-32 hours, so it shouldn’t be more than two or three days at the most.”

“Great.” Milo sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

Nodding, Dr. Nichols tore off the prescription and handed it to him, standing. “No problem. Thank you for coming in Milo. Make an appointment at the front desk for a month from now.”

“Will do.” Smiling, Milo pocketed the prescription and left, hoping that he’d have better luck this time.

***

Sitting across from Tim on the overstuffed couch, Milo fidgeted. “What, um...what can you tell me about schizoaffective disorder? I tried looking it up but a lot of the stuff I read was just confusing.”

Tim tilted his head. “Can I ask why you’d like to know?”

“Well,” Milo pushed himself up.”Ben spent the night this week and he...he had a nightmare and when he woke up he started screaming about something he saw that wasn’t there. After, that’s what he told me he had.”

Nodding, Tim scratched his chin. “Did he tell you what he saw?”

“No.” Milo shook his head. “I didn’t want to ask. He was so upset, I didn’t want to push him.”

“I don’t blame you. Well,” Tim shrugged. “It’s not my area of expertise, but a simple way of thinking about it is like this. Have you heard of bipolar disorder?”

“Yeah.” Milo nodded. “That’s like when people have rollercoaster emotions kind of, right?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, people with bipolar disorder experience both depression and mania. And have you heard of schizophrenia?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve seen it a lot in movies and stuff at least.”

“Well,” Tim shifted his eyes. “Unfortunately, the way schizophrenia is depicted in the media is pretty unfortunate. People who have it are rarely a danger to others, in fact, they’re more likely to come to harm themselves from others because of the condition. But it’s often characterized by things like hallucinations and delusions, among other symptoms. So a good way to think about schizoaffective disorder…” Tim folded his hands together. “Is as if bipolar disorder and schizophrenia had a baby. It tends to be more severe in scope than bipolar, but less limiting than schizophrenia. People with it have mood symptoms, and also the psychotic symptoms as well.”

“Oh okay.” Narrowing his eyes, Milo nodded as understanding dawned on him. “That makes sense.”

“Now, there are two types of schizoaffective disorder. Depressed type and bipolar type. Do you know which kind Ben has?” Tim asked.

Milo shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, if you feel comfortable doing so, you could ask him. Or he might share with you. If you’re together long enough though, you may pick up on it if he ends up having a manic episode.”

Crossing his arms, Milo tilted his head. “What would that be like?”

“Well,” Tim held out a hand. “It can look different for different people, but there are a handful of key symptoms. High energy, sleeplessness, feelings of euphoria and like they’re able to do anything. People will often get very creative during those time periods. Folks in the midst of mania can also engage in a lot of risky behavior; drinking and drug use, excessive shopping, becoming overly sexual—“

Milo chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t hate _that_ at least.”

Smiling, Tim continued. “And psychotic symptoms I mentioned like the hallucinations and delusions can sometimes crop up or get worse in those times, too.” Nodding, Milo was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. “May I ask what you’re thinking about, Milo?” Tim leaned forward a little.

“I don’t know…” Shrugging, Milo chewed on his lip. “Just wish I could help him, I guess.”

Nodding knowingly, Tim sat back. “That’s a very kind sentiment Milo. And being supportive and encouraging in your relationship is important. But,” He paused, and Milo lifted his eyes to meet his gaze. “Let me encourage you to remember that it’s not your job to fix Ben as you learn more about what he’s facing. You can be there for him, but you can’t be everything to him.”

“Yeah.” Milo swallowed. “Thank you. That’s a bad habit of mine, so I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Smiling, Tim glanced at the clock. “Well, Milo. We’re almost done for the day. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

Pushing himself to his feet, Milo shook his head. “Nope, thank you.”

“Thank you, Milo. Same time next week?” Milo nodded, making his way out of the office and catching the bus back home.

***

Rolling over in bed, Milo caught sight of the clock. 7:13 a.m. _Gross, why the fuck am I awake?_ Rubbing a hand over his face, it was a minute before Milo noticed the erection pressing urgently beneath the fabric of his boxers. Hand going to it for half a second, then picking up his phone excitedly, Milo beamed as it rang.

Ben’s answered, mumbling. “Milo, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Ben, good morning!” Milo responded in a cheery sing-song.

“Okay...that’s, yeah...I mean I love waking up to the sound of your voice and all…” Ben sighed. “But it’s so damn early, Milo.”

Milo giggled. “I know, and I’m sorry, but Ben…” He bit his lip. “I woke up hard today.”

“Oh shit.” Suddenly Ben sounded a little more alert. “You do anything about it yet?”

Chuckling, Milo shook his head. “Nope…”

“Give me like half an hour, okay, beautiful? Be there as fast as I can.”

Milo smiled. “Can’t wait.” 

Ben buzzed not long after, hair mussed and sleepy eyed as he walked in and took Milo into his arms. Kissing him, Milo grinned. “Mmm...dick on demand, I love it.” Ben chuckled and toed off his shoes as they made their way to the bed, casting clothes aside as they went. Naked bodies falling together, Milo ground himself against Ben insistently. “ _Touch me_.” He breathed, and as Ben’s lengthy fingers surrounded his cock, Milo let out a sigh of relief, instantly rocking into the warm circle of his palm. Tugging on Ben, Milo rolled on top, straddling him as their hands worked between them. 

Pulling at Ben’s hair, Milo looked into his green eyes. “I need to ride your cock.”

Smiling, Ben lifted his eyebrows. “Yes, please.”

Scrambling in the bedside stand, Milo grabbed a condom and the lube, rolling it over Ben and smearing the sticky liquid over his cock and then his own entrance before hurriedly positioning himself and sinking down in one fluid motion. “Oh fuck, Ben, _yesss…_ ” Milo hissed in pleasure, rolling his hips to feel Ben press against every inner surface before he started to bounce.

Taking hold of Milo’s cock, Ben jerked him in time with their movements, other hand at his hip as he thrust inside of him. Hands resting on the mattress, Milo drove himself down on Ben’s long cock, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open, a huffing moan escaping him with every downstroke. 

Getting close, each time Milo slammed himself over Ben’s cock he curled his pelvis forward a little in delicious friction. “ _Fuck, Ben! Yes! You’re gonna make me cum so hard! Yes! Yes!_ ” Milo didn’t even care about holding out, it had been too long as Ben pounded into him, hand flashing over his cock, Milo’s knees weaving in and out as his eyes twitched. “ _Fuck! Fuck, Ben! I’m cumming!_ ” Ropes of cum shooting across his belly and chest, Milo’s elbows gave out for a second, but he managed to catch himself, panting as Ben continued to gently pulse inside.

“You mind if I get on top?” Ben caressed Milo’s thick thigh.

Shaking his head, Milo gave him a weary smile. “Not at all.” Sitting up, Ben hooked his arms around Milo’s back and laid him down, fusing their mouths together as he began hammering into him. “ _Oh fuck, Milo! You’re so tight! I love fucking you!”_ Ben’s long arms crept underneath him, cradling Milo close, whimpering against his ear as the tips of his fingers stroked the dark tendrils of hair at the back of Milo’s neck.

“ _Yes, Milo! Yes! I’m gonna cum! Yes! Fuck!_ ” Every muscle flexing, Ben froze above him in silence for a moment before releasing with a shuddering groan, collapsing in exhaustion.

Fingers drawing patterns on Ben’s sweaty back, Milo kissed his neck. “Fuck, I missed that.”

Ben nodded. “Me too.” Rolling off, he cupped Milo’s face. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t get to experience all the beautiful sounds and faces you make when you cum.”

“Oh _god_.” Milo tucked himself into the pillow. “I can only imagine. I probably look like a mental patient.”

Bursting out laughing, Ben combed back his hair. “Honey, we’re _both_ mental patients.” Giggling, they fell against one another, awash in the afterglow of their passion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a psychiatric professional. All mentions of medications, side effects, therapeutic advice etc. is based on my own personal experience. Also, I am well aware that Bill has mentioned he takes Lexapro and for the love of all that is good I hope he doesn’t have the problem mentioned in this chapter, but many folks do when they take it (I did) and even if beautiful Billiam does, I’d love him anyway.


	5. 5

“Alright…” Glancing down at his headshot, the casting director flipped it back to scan Milo’s resume. “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Dean.”

Shaking out his nerves, Milo delivered the lines with the tall, middle aged man who he assumed was a producer of some kind, and when he finished the casting director tipped up her glasses, smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Dean. That’ll be all.”

Milo shifted his eyes to the side. “Did you want to see anything else, or…?”

“No, thank you. Have a nice rest of your day.”

Nodding and trying to smile, Milo made his way out of the conference room, picking apart his performance as he trudged back to the bus stop. Lighting a cigarette, Milo crossed his legs, sighing out a plume of smoke and scratching his eyebrow in defeat.

“Hey, how’d the audition go?” Ben asked when he arrived that evening, wrapping his lanky arms around Milo’s waist and kissing him on the cheek. 

Milo rolled his eyes. “It didn’t. I bombed.” 

“Aw.” Rubbing the small of his back, Ben swayed them back and forth a little. “I’m sure you did better than you think.”

Nestling against Ben’s shoulder, Milo shook his head. “I really didn’t. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” 

“Well…” Ben blinked, giving him a squeeze. “Maybe...maybe it just wasn’t the right kind of part for you. Here, um…” Releasing him, Ben went to his shoulder bag, rifling around for a minute before unearthing a notebook, flipping through a few pages and extending it to Milo. “It’s not...this isn’t finished, or whatever. I wasn’t going to show it to you yet, but...and I’m going to polish it. Type it up and stuff, but...well...Here…” Extending his hand to Milo, Ben rubbed the back of his neck.

Accepting the notebook, Milo glanced down and saw what looked to be the beginnings of a script, with many notes and scratched out edits, and in the upper right hand corner, with three bold lines drawn beneath it were the words: _For Milo._

Hand to his mouth, Milo blinked rapidly. “Oh Ben, this...you _wrote_ me a screenplay?”

Staring at the floor, Ben shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I mean...it might not be any good, but...I just...I got this idea. And...well, it’s a little dark, but...when I thought of this character, I couldn’t…” Emerald eyes flicking up to meet him, Ben swallowed. “I could only see you.”

Tilting his head, Milo rushed forward and threw his arms around Ben’s neck, drawing him close. “Thank you. That’s...no one has ever done something like this for me before…” They held one another close, Milo smiling into Ben’s neck as he chuckled.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. Read it first and see if you actually like it.”

Parting, Milo held up the notebook. “I’ll read it right now.” Milo flopped down on the couch and Ben sat next to him, chewing on his thumb. After a moment Milo was halfway down the first page when he turned to him. “Okay…” He giggled. “But you can’t just sit there and _stare_ at me while I read it. You’ll drive me crazier than I already am.”

Grinning, Ben held up his hands. “Fair enough.” He grabbed a book from his bag, shifting to the bed and doing his best not to peek over at Milo too often as Ben heard him turning pages.

It was the story of a young, gay sex worker in New York named Troy (to be played by Milo) who develops an unlikely friendship with Mortimer, an elderly man, on the basis that they’re both alone in the world. When Milo got to the place where Ben’s scratchy handwriting ended, Troy just moved in with Mortimer to take care of him after a cancer diagnosis.

Setting down the notebook, Milo shook his head in awe and stood to walk over to the bed. “Ben, this is…” He waved it in the air. “Amazing. Truly. Heartbreaking, moving. And so, _so_ , well-written, I can’t…” Swallowing, Milo brought a hand to his heart. “Thank you.”

“Really?” Ben shuffled to the edge of the bed, looking up at him and taking Milo’s hand. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” Milo beamed, setting down the notebook and cupping Ben’s face. “I love...you.” Clenching his teeth, Milo’s eyes fell to the floor and he scrunched his toes in the carpet.

Silent for a moment, Ben slowly stood, placing his arms at Milo’s waist and resting their foreheads together. “You do?” Nodding, Milo caused both of their faces to bob. A wide grin spread over Ben’s lips. “I love you, too, Milo.”

“Yeah?” Smiling, Milo pressed into Ben.

Ben leaned forward. “Yeah.”

“It is a little concerning though…” Milo smirked. “That your first thought when you dream up a prostitute is, ‘yup, that’s my boyfriend’.” Giggling, Milo shook his head.

Ben laughed. “Hey, take it as a compliment.” Grabbing Milo’s ass, he raised an eyebrow. “I’m saying you have all the skills of a professional.” 

Both laughing, Ben captured his lips, his lengthy fingers weaving into Milo’s dark locks as they fell back onto the bed. Hands flowing over one another’s bodies, the notebook fluttered to the floor as Milo licked into Ben’s mouth, soft noises of pleasure growing in his throat. 

Discarded clothes flying, soon their naked forms writhed against one another, eager hands groping flushed flesh as Ben and Milo’s raw cocks brushed together. Retrieving the condom and lube from the bedside stand, Milo laid on his side, Ben behind him as he spread his legs apart. Smearing the sticky liquid over himself, and a generous amount over Milo’s hole, Ben nipped at Milo’s joined earlobe as he slid inside, Milo’s back arching and fisting his hands in the sheets. 

Knobby fingers circling around to tug Milo’s cock, Ben rocked forth into Milo, lips dragging over the sensitive skin of his neck as Milo reached back to play with Ben’s sandy hair. “ _Oh Ben! Yes! Fuck me!_ ” Milo gasped, driving himself back against his long cock.

Other arm hooking around Milo’s chest to hold his back firmly against him, Ben clapped into Milo fervently, mouth moist against his skin. “ _Fuck! Milo, Yes! I love you! Fuck! You’re so beautiful! Yes!”_

Angling back, Milo fused their mouths together, tongues twisting as their bodies rolled toward oblivion. Large hand kneading Ben’s ass, Milo panted, legs kicking as Ben’s fingers flashed over his cock and whimpers tumbled from his lips. “ _Fuck, Ben! I love you so much! Don’t stop! You’re gonna make me cum! Yes! Fuck!”_

Constricting around him, Ben pounded Milo, jerking faster until his broad body arched, whining and trembling as his cum drained over the sheets, Milo quivering helplessly as his eyes twitched.

Rolling Milo onto his front, Ben hammered him into the mattress, kissing Milo’s upturned cheek in between moans. “ _Fuck! Yes! Milo! I’m gonna cum! Yes!”_ Pelvis jumping one last time, Ben shivered before relaxing atop Milo, caressing his vast shoulders and peppering him with kisses.

Climbing off, Ben threw away the condom and they snuggled up together, tasting the salt on one another’s skin as their lips lazily explored before their eyes grew heavy and their arms fell still.

***

After three days straight of double shifts, Milo hadn’t seen Ben and he was texting him insistently, so when he finally had a short evening shift, they arranged for Ben to pick him up after work.

Hearing blaring music from half a block away, Ben’s ancient sedan screeched to a stop in front of the restaurant and he hopped out, scooping Milo into his arms and kissing him passionately. “Mmm...missed you, beautiful!” He smiled, giving his ass a squeeze and provoking a squeal of delight before Milo climbed into the car.

“How was your day?” Ben asked as he peeled out, making his way to Milo’s apartment. 

Shrugging, Milo undid the top two buttons of his work shirt. “Oh not too bad, I guess. Had one table of high society bitches stiff me on a tip, but other than that, pretty decent. Yours?”

“Great!” Ben drummed the steering wheel. “Did some cleaning, a lot of writing. Hey!” Turning to Milo at a stoplight, he beamed. “Do you want to go out dancing?”

Milo’s face spread into a wide, goofy grin. _“Yes!”_ Milo adored dancing, and often he had to beg his boyfriends to take him. “Just let me change at home real quick and let’s go!”

Back at his apartment, Milo selected a pair of black jeans and a dark blue Henley, Ben’s hands roaming over him as he changed. “Hey now…” Milo giggled, pulling on fresh socks. “We’ll never make it out the door if you keep that up.”

Chuckling, Ben pinched his ass and they returned to the car. Arriving at _Push_ the bass thumped in Milo’s feet as soon as they hit the sidewalk and they walked in through the pulsing bodies and strobing lights, parking at the bar where Milo got a vodka sour and Ben stuck with water. 

_Sobbing in Cabo_ by blackbear radiated over the speakers and, tossing back the rest of his drink, Milo dragged Ben to the dance floor, shimmying and grinning. Large hands finding his waist, Milo was pleasantly surprised to see that Ben knew how to move as he draped his arms about his shoulders, their bodies switching to the upbeat song. Fingers on his ass, Ben ground into him, Milo’s hips rotating fast as they swirled and dipped. 

By the time _White Flag_ by Delta Heavy thumped through the club, Milo was sweaty, starting his third drink and high on the elation of the music and Ben’s body swiveling against him. Dipping Milo down, Ben drew him up and pressed their foreheads together as his pelvis worked into him, smirking and kneading Milo’s ass among the throng of heaving men.

“Mmm...I wanna fuck you so bad.” Ben’s lips tickled against his ear.

Nodding, Milo fingered the sweaty hair at the back of Ben’s neck. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Weaving their way through the crowd, they returned to Ben’s car where he pressed Milo to the door, hand crawling up his shirt as they locked lips and he ground his already stiff cock into him.

“Mmm...fuck, get inside.” Ben said hastily, slapping his ass before jogging around the car. Milo chuckled and crawled in, immediately leaning across the console to bury his face in Ben’s neck, brushing his light pink lips over his skin as he turned the ignition.

Tipsy and excited, Milo’s fingers tiptoed across Ben’s slender thigh, unzipping his jeans and snaking a hand beneath his boxers to grasp his cock as he drove. Nibbling on Ben’s ear, Milo pulled him free before ducking under Ben’s arm, lips slightly uncoordinated in his inebriation as he took him into his mouth and started to suck. 

Large hand resting on Milo’s scalp, Ben fought to keep his focus on the road as he gently tipped his hips forward. “ _Oh fuck yes, Milo! Suck me! I love your fucking mouth…_ ” Taking him deeper, Milo hollowed his cheeks and bobbed with enthusiasm, moaning around Ben’s sensitive flesh. Aroused at Ben’s noises of desire, Milo began palming himself over his jeans as his drool dripped over the base of Ben’s cock and he drove himself further into Milo’s throat.

“ _Oh fuck, fuck! Milo, you gotta stop…”_ Ben tapped his shoulder, shaking his head. 

Rising and wiping his lip, Milo looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because if you don’t you’re gonna make me cum, and I want to fuck you like crazy when we get back.” Ben grinned.

Giggling, Milo sat back in his seat. “Okay, fair enough.” Fidgeting, Milo managed to keep his hands to himself and when they got to his apartment, Ben chased him up the stairs, pinching his ass and making Milo shriek with joy as they tumbled through the doorway. 

Grabbing Milo by the hips, Ben spun him around and firmly shoved him up against the counter, snatching the hair at the back of his head and pulling Milo’s ear back to his lips. “You wanna get fucked _hard_ , beautiful?”

“Oh yes, _fuck…_ ” Milo ground his ass back against Ben. “Fuck me so goddamn hard, Ben. _Please_.”

Unzipping Milo’s jeans, Ben yanked them to his knees along with his boxers, rubbing his denim-clad cock against the crack of Milo’s ass for a moment before stepping back and cracking a palm sharply across his cheek. 

Gasping, Milo turned to him, smiling in surprise as Ben winked. “Stay right there, gorgeous.” Bounding over to the bedside stand, Ben retrieved a condom and the lube before returning to Milo at the counter and lowering his pants. Slipping the condom over himself, Ben applied the lube to his hand first, spinning over Milo’s tight muscle for a minute as the other hand grasped his cock. 

Inserting two long fingers, Milo hissed pleasurably as Ben began pulsing and pulling in unison, creating a circle of tension around Milo until his knees were buckling and he was grateful for the countertop keeping him aloft. 

_“Oh Ben! Please! Please just fuck me! Fuck me now, Ben! Please!_ ” Milo whined, arching his back and leaning against him.

Retracting his hand, Ben replaced it with his cock, head penetrating Milo unceremoniously and slamming him into the counter’s edge. “Like that? Huh? Is this what you want, lovely?” Ben breathed, one arm bending Milo down while the other jerked his cock.

” _Fuck! Yes! Just like that!”_ High moans rattled out of Milo as Ben pounded him into the laminate, fingers hooking over the opposite edge as he started to flutter around his cock.

“ _Fuck yeah, you like that? Huh? You like when I fuck you hard, gorgeous?_ ” Ramming Milo mercilessly, a stack of mail slithered to the floor, followed not long after by a clattering butter dish, but neither of them noticed as Milo’s thick thighs shook and his dark blue eyes rolled back in his head.

 _“Yes! Fuck! I love it! I’m gonna cum! Yes! FUCK!”_ Cum splattering over Ben’s hand, his shirt, and the counter, Milo writhed against him, whimpering and trembling as Ben folded over him, hips leaping forward as he panted a wet spot into the back of Milo’s shirt.

“ _Fuck, Milo! Fuck! I’m gonna cum! Yes! Milo!_ ” Biting down on the spot where Milo’s neck joined his shoulder, Milo chirped in surprise as Ben jerked forward a final time, shivering and squeezing Milo close. 

After taking a few breaths, Ben stepped back, discarding the condom and lifting his jeans. Milo decided he might as well take his off, giving Ben a sweet kiss before changing into a fresh t-shirt and boxers for sleep. 

“I left my bag in the car, hang on, I’ll be right back.” Snatching up Milo’s keys, Ben rushed out and came back a minute later, shedding his jeans and flopping down on the couch. Ben took out his laptop, knobby fingers starting to rapidly type and Milo looked at him from the mattress curiously.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” He tilted his head.

“Not tired.” Ben shook his head. “I have an idea and I really want to get it down. I will after though. Promise.” 

Flipping over, Milo narrowed his eyes at him. “Ben...how long have you been awake?”

“What’s today, Friday?” Blinking, Ben stared off into the middle distance. “I got a couple of hours on Wednesday I think…”

Staring horrified, Milo swallowed. Ben caught his expression and let out a light chuckle. “Yes, Milo. I’m aware I’m manic right now.” He set the laptop aside and lifted his hands. “It happens a few times a year. But I've been dealing with it for a couple of decades, and, for the most part, I have the swing of it now. So I’m just trying to roll with it.” Ben shrugged. “Take advantage of the positive parts. Creativity. The extra energy. Increased libido.” Winking, he grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

”Um…” Shifting to the edge of the bed, Milo chewed his lip. “Are you...are you going to tell your therapist about it?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, I see Dan on Monday. I’ll be sure to tell him.”

“Okay, good.” Milo sighed in relief. “How long does this usually last?”

Holding up a hand, Ben rocked it back and forth. “There’s really no way to say for sure. Anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks, depending on if they adjust my meds or whatever. If I had to guess I’d say I’m on day four right now, but…” Ben pulled a face. “It can be kinda hard to tell when I’m in the middle of it. Easier to evaluate when I’m looking back.”

“Alright.” Milo nodded. “And what about…” He chewed his lip. “So you said you like to take advantage of the good parts of this. What about the bad parts? What’s...what’s that like?”

Palms on the couch, Ben shifted a little. “Well...it’s gotten much better than when I was younger. I used to get drunk, high, fuck strangers, steal shit, get arrested…” Rolling his eyes, Ben shook his head. “Now mostly, it’s just...you know, the...stuff I see and hear gets a little worse. And the no sleeping thing, that can get pretty painful when it gets past a couple of days. And I’ll forget to eat or take my meds if I don’t set reminders on my phone because I lose all sense of time passing. Stuff like that…” Eyes cutting away from Milo, Ben fidgeted.

“Okay.” Getting up, Milo joined Ben on the couch and interlaced their fingers. “So, how can I help?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do anything.” Ben grinned. “Just keep being your wonderful self. I’ll crash within a few days.”

“And that’s…” Milo glanced at their joined hands. “When that happens...will you be okay?”

Mouth hanging open in silence for a moment, Ben closed it slowly. “I...can’t really answer that, honestly. A lot of times I’m fine. I level out, go back to normal. But sometimes, um…” Swallowing, Ben stared down. “I’ll kind of, you know...slingshot in the other direction for a while...but...but if that happens I’ll just stay out of your hair. I don’t want you to have to deal with it.”

“What? Ben, _no._ ” Reaching over to cup his face, Milo shook his head. “If you get depressed like that, I don’t want you hiding from me, alright?”

Ben blinked, shaking his head. “Milo, it’s not fair for you. I can get really bad sometimes. And I don’t want to put you through that.”

“So what?” Milo tossed up his hands. “I’m just supposed to sit over here panicking, not knowing if you’re okay?” Forcing Ben’s green eyes to meet his own, Milo bore into him. “That is not an option, Ben.”

Chewing his lip, Ben’s shoulders folded in on themselves. “I don’t...Milo, I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to take care of me.”

“But…” Milo’s mouth hung open, aghast. “Isn’t that what we’re doing here? Taking care of each other? Loving each other? I mean, if you don’t want that, Ben, then...what’s the point?”

“That’s not…” Raising a trembling hand to his forehead, Ben closed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Milo, I…my greatest fear is this thing…” Ben gestured to his chest, then his head. “This thing inside me, I worry all the time, _all the time_ , that there’s going to be a day when it takes over. A day when…” Voice growing thick, Ben turned his face away. “I don’t...when I lose my grip on reality completely. And I don’t know who I am…and I don’t….” Facing the wall, tears ran down his face as he squeezed Milo’s hand. “I don’t know who the people I love are anymore, either. And all that’s left…” A shuddering breath tore through his fragile body. “Are the voices and the monsters.” Staring at the ceiling, Ben blinked rapidly. “So I don’t...I don’t want anyone to ever feel they have to take care of me if that happens.”

Silent for a moment, Milo lifted Ben’s hand, stroking tenderly. “Ben, if that happens…” He began softly. “And honey, I don’t think it will, but if it did...” Milo leaned in, resting their foreheads together. “I would spend every day telling you who you were. And how we met. And how brilliant you are. And how well you love me.” A sob escaped Ben’s throat and he curled against Milo, who wrapped him in his arms, rocking him gently. 

Allowing Ben to weep, Milo caressed him until his tears turned to sniffles. “Though if that does happen…” Milo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I may toss in that we met when I was a famous actor and you were the hunky pool boy I seduced, just for fun. I mean, if you’re gonna forget anyway…” Giggling, Ben joined him with a watery laugh, playfully smacking Milo’s shoulder.

“But really,” Milo brushed back his hair. “I’ll always be here for you. But I can only do that if you tell me what’s going on, okay?”

Wiping his face, Ben nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Capturing Ben’s mouth for a kiss, Milo could taste the salt of his tears and brought him in for a hug before parting. “Alright, I’m gonna go to bed. You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”

“Maybe I’ll crawl in with you later.” Ben smiled. “I’ll try not to wake you up.”

Smirking, Milo raised an eyebrow. “If you do, make it enjoyable.”

“You got it.” Ben winked.

Climbing into bed, Milo watched quietly for a while as Ben poised himself over the glow of his laptop in the dark apartment, hoping as he drifted that Ben’s fears would never come to pass.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of self-harm.
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updating. I have been inundated with fic requests (which I love, keep ‘em coming!) But ya boi is a people pleaser so I neglected my own stories because of that. Hope you like the new chapter and thank you for reading!

Checking his phone immediately after punching out, Milo frowned. Ben hadn't returned his text from the night before:  _ Hey, just wanted to say goodnight. Hope your day was okay. Love you. _ Or the one this morning:  _ Thinking about you. Hope everything’s okay. Text me when you wake up. Love. _

Milo chewed on his lip as he waited for the bus, deciding it was time to text Lolly, Ben’s roommate.

Milo:  _ Hey Lols, sorry to bother you but I haven’t heard from Ben. Everything okay? _

At the fourth stop, a handful of tired North Hollywood residents climbing on while a few more shuffled off, Milo’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Lolly:  _ Idk. I think he’s pretty down. Has been in his room a lot and I haven’t seen him much. Maybe you should come over. _

Milo glanced out the window at the cross streets, narrowing his eyes. Resolving to get off after three more stops, he caught the bus going in the opposite direction, and texted Lolly to let her know he was on his way. After nearly an hour, during which an excitable elderly woman showed him pictures; actual, hard copy pictures, which Milo would’ve found endearing had he not been worried, of her grandchildren while he feigned interest, he landed two blocks away from Ben and Lolly’s apartment.

“Hey…” Lolly, an almost tragically thin blonde with a personality that, in Milo’s short instances of interacting with her, could stray wildly from exuberance to melodrama, answered the door with a pained expression on her face. “He’s…” Lowering her voice, she leaned in. “He’s not happy I told you to come here. Just a heads up.”

Hands in the pockets of his slacks, Milo nodded and entered. Though he and Ben didn’t spend much time there for privacy’s sake, he always enjoyed his and Lolly’s apartment. Walls splashed with Lolly’s paintings and several unmatching bookshelves groaning beneath the weight of their occupants, it typically had a cozy, creative atmosphere Milo found comforting and inspiring. 

But today it was as if the walls themselves were painted with misery, somehow dingier, darker than he recalled as Milo raised a tentative fist and knocked on Ben’s door.

“Ben?” Calling out softly, Milo heard the creaking of the mattress, shuffling of steps and perhaps the noise of Ben kicking an intrusive object aside, before the knob turned.

“Hey…” Eyes downcast, Ben looked...sickly. Skin gray, hair greasy, and wearing the same clothes Milo saw him in three days before. Body folded inward, Ben showed a mere sliver of himself in an attempt to disguise the chaos that was his bedroom.

“Hey.” Milo reached out to tug at the fabric of his shirt. “How are you?” Ben wouldn’t meet his gaze. Shrugged. Taking a step closer, Milo dipped down to try and see his face. “Ben? Will you talk to me? Please?”

“Milo, I…” His voice was dusty, eking out from underuse. “I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“Ben…” Speaking softly, Milo leaned into him until their foreheads touched, heart clenching when Ben flinched away from him. “I love you. And anyway, we met in a damn  _ mental institution,  _ remember?” Milo grinned, and he thought he saw a twitch at the corner of Ben’s mouth. “We’ve already seen the worst of each other. Ben, you…” Reaching up, Milo ran a hand over his sodden hair and Ben’s eyes fell shut. “You can’t scare me away. I’m in this for good, alright?” Milo swooped in to capture Ben’s lips. He didn’t care that they didn’t move against his own. Didn’t care that Ben probably hadn’t brushed his teeth since the last time they were together. Didn’t care that they belonged to a mouth telling him to leave.

All Milo cared about was Ben and making sure he would get through the tortures his brain inflicted. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Ben tried to chuckle, but all that came out was a huff as he blinked rapidly, nodding. “Alright, but, um…” Wiping a wrist over his eyes, Ben sniffed. “I’ll...I’ll shower and we can go to your place. My room is fucking gross.”

Cupping his cheek, Milo was relieved to see his emerald eyes. “Ben, honey, why don’t we just stay here? I’ll help you clean up.”

Shaking his head, Ben looked to the floor again. “I can’t ask you to do that Milo…”

“You didn’t.” Milo smiled. “I offered. Come on.” Gently pushing the door, Milo patted Ben’s shoulder. Reluctantly he took a step back and revealed a tornado of dirty clothes, dishes with half eaten food, at least half a dozen empty drink containers, and an endless flurry of papers and notebooks.

Puffing out his cheeks, Milo rested his hands on his hips. “Well…” Milo smirked and threw up his large hands. “Time for some of that notorious gay cleaning ethic.” 

Ben chuckled weakly. “Could you lend me some of that?”

Kissing him on the cheek, Milo skipped to the kitchen and grabbed a trash bag before tackling the mess. After they got all the dishes in the sink, Ben unearthed a t-shirt and boxers he was relatively sure were clean, and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh great.” Popping up, Milo sniffed at his own shirt. “I’ll come with you. I smell like I fell into a deep fryer.”

“No.” Ben responded too quickly. Then, eyes sliding away, he swallowed. “I mean, I…”

“Oh…” Holding up his palms, Milo shook his head. “We don’t have to do anything. I totally get if you’re not in the mood or whatever. It’ll just be a regular shower. I promise.” Nudging Ben with his elbow, Milo smiled. “No funny stuff.”

Weight shifting nervously from foot to foot, Ben gnawed on his lip. “It’s not that, um…” Voice tremulous, he examined the pile of laundry on the floor. “I…” Taking a deep breath, Ben steeled himself, and when he spoke again it was the ghost of a whisper. “I hurt myself…”

“Oh.” Swallowing heavily, Milo settled back on his heels.

“Yeah, so, um…” Throat tight, Ben nodded. “I...you don’t need to see that. Until...until they heal up a bit, at least…” The shame radiating off of him was palpable as Ben’s skinny frame wavered within the center of his derelict bedroom.

Milo walked to him, took Ben’s fingers in his own. “Ben, I...I would never force you to do anything with your body you’re uncomfortable with. So if you really want to hide this, I’ll…” Nodding sadly, Milo gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll understand. But I promise, if you show me, I won’t judge you. I just…” Milo stroked a hand down his arm. “I just want to be here for you.”

Ben was silent for what seemed like a long time, blinking and staring at nothing. “Okay.” He finally uttered, nodding. “Let’s, um...let’s go.” 

Stopping at the hall closet for a couple of towels and washcloths, they went into the bathroom. For a minute they just stood, until Milo figured removing his shirt might start things off. Ben bobbed his head slightly, and peeled his shirt away, letting it tumble to the tile. Milo shrugged out of his black work slacks and boxers. With a cautious glance, Ben hooked his thumbs underneath his sweatpants. In hopes it would make the transition easier for him, Milo stepped to the shower, turning the water on and testing it with his hand.

When Milo faced Ben again, he couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped his pink lips. His thighs were a massacre. Dozens, maybe a hundred, furious crimson slashes decorating their exterior. And apparently Ben, in the height of his lassitude, had pulled the sweatpants over the cuts while they continued to bleed, because large swaths of caked, flaking blood dried over his muscular legs, and when Milo looked down there were the hardened stains that soaked into the fabric.

Seeing Milo’s expression, Ben’s shoulders curled in and he hugged himself. “I’m sorry, Milo.” He whispered, trembling.

“No.” Milo shook his head, going to him and gathering Ben into his strong arms. “Ben…” Curling into the crook of his neck, Milo’s tears fell hot and wet on his skin as he petted his dirty hair. “I’m so, so sorry.” Milo wept, drawing his grip tight and kissing his neck. “I wish I could take this away from you. I would do anything.  _ Anything.”  _

Timidly wrapping his lanky arms around Milo’s pale body, Ben rested against him. Ben let himself cry. Then Ben sobbed. Body shaking helplessly beneath Milo’s grasp as his long fingers clutched his wide back and he desperately tried to drain a lifetime’s worth of ache from his eyes onto Milo’s broad shoulder.

Steam rose in the bathroom as they held one another, gradually calming, sniffling. Milo leaned back, red eyed. “Ben, that…” Blinking, he looked down at his legs, then to the shower. “I’m going to turn the water on colder. Or this is going to hurt a lot.”

“I don’t mind.” Ben responded without thinking, and when he saw Milo’s cobalt eyes look at him with a pleading sadness, he had to turn away. “Yeah...yeah, that sounds good.”

Adjusting the knob, Milo beckoned to Ben with one hand. “Come here…” Milo sat on the edge of the tub, holding a washcloth under the stream for a moment before squeezing out the excess water. “Alright, um…” Blinking rapidly, Milo nodded. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay? But after...after we’re done…” Milo nodded back at the shower. “We’ll, uh…” Voice thick, he swallowed. “We’ll put peroxide or something and some bandaids on there.”

Ben reached out to stop his wrist. “Milo, you really don’t have to…”

“Just,” Closing his eyes for a moment, when Milo’s sapphire gaze flicked up to his, Ben witnessed a need there, a longing, for Milo to do this one thing, this one act, this one gesture that would clean up a corner of the mess that was Ben’s life. “Let me.”

Nodding silently, Ben stood still while Milo passed the lukewarm cloth over his torn skin again and again, maroon droplets cascading every time he rang it out. Some of the deeper gouges bled anew when Milo swiped them, their trickling rivulets matching the tears on his cheeks as Ben grew blurry before his eyes and he stood.

“Alright.” Wiping his face, Milo tried to hitch a smile on his lips. “That’s done. We can get in.”

Milo waited for Ben to dip his head beneath the water before squeezing shampoo into his sizable palm. “Turn around.” Sinking his lengthy fingers into Ben’s locks, Milo massaged his scalp and Ben hummed appreciatively. Once they finished, Milo and Ben toweled off and dressed, going back to Ben’s room with a bottle of peroxide, a bag of cotton swabs borrowed from Lolly’s makeup stash, and a box of bandaids. 

It took the entire box, and at the end Milo had to leave a couple of the shallow marks uncovered, but they deemed it acceptable as Ben pulled on a fresh pair of sweatpants.

”Milo,” Shaking his head, Ben took his hand. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You…” Fingers winding into his wet chestnut tendrils, Milo saw his first real smile. “You love me better than I ever could’ve dreamed.”

Catching his mouth in a brief kiss, Milo grinned. “You too, Ben. I love you so much. I’m happy we found each other.” Ben lassoed him in for a hug, gripping Milo so tight he nearly had to tell him to stop, but he released, and Milo was able to breathe normally again.

“Oh!” Ben stood and began rifling through the piles of papers they stacked on his desk. “I almost forgot…”

Furrowing his brow curiously, Milo waited until Ben unearthed a handful. “Aha! Here it is. I finished before I crashed. Probably needs a ton of edits since I was on three days without sleep, but, anyway…” 

Milo flipped through the pages, oceanic eyes widening. “You finished the script?” Stomping his feet on the floor, Milo dropped it in his lap and clapped excitedly. “Yay! Ben, I’m so proud of you!”

Smiling shyly, Ben shrugged. “Well, wait until you read it. Then decide if you’re proud or not.”

“Aw.” Playfully smacking his shoulder, Milo grinned. “I’m sure it’s amazing. I can’t wait to read it.” Milo ran his hands over the paper lovingly. “But first...when was the last time you ate?”

Ben looked off in the distance and narrowed his eyes. “I...don’t know.”

“Alright.” Milo almost patted his thigh and stopped himself just in time, hoping Ben didn’t see the jerk of his hand as he shifted his gaze and swallowed. “Come on.”

They went to the kitchen and Milo rifled through the refrigerator. “Eggs?”

“Honestly, Milo, I...I’m not hungry.” Ben shrugged.

Nodding, Milo held the carton. “Okay. But if I make them will you try to eat anyway?”

“Okay.” Ben looked at Milo’s earnest face and smiled. “I’ll try, beautiful.”

Observing Milo as he scrambled in his boxers and one of Ben’s t-shirts which stretched over his love handles as he ran the spatula through the pan, Ben beamed. Milo placed a plate before him, trying not to stare at Ben as he ate and simply allow him to go at his own pace as he picked over his food noncommittally. Eventually he finished nearly all of what was before him and Milo happily gave his arm a squeeze, standing up to wash the dishes.

“Here.” Ben stood and took the plates from his hands. “Let me do that. You’ve done enough for one day.” Kissing Milo’s forehead, he gave his ass a pat. “Just relax for a minute.”

Milo tugged down the too-small shirt and flopped into a chair with a sigh. Once completed, Ben wiped his hands on a towel. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap.” Rolling his eyes, he shrugged. “I realize that’s bad since I woke up about an hour before you got here…”

Shaking his head, Milo let out the yawn he restrained since he walked in the door. “I’m not complaining. Let’s go.”

They crawled into the fresh sheets and Ben turned into Milo, fingers trailing down his side. “Would you hold me? Until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” Milo kissed his nose and Ben chuckled before turning over, trying to find a position that didn’t put too much pressure on his thighs and discovering he had to lay on his back, Milo’s arms cradling him and making sure not to throw a leg across his waist.

After a twelve hour shift, not to mention the caretaking, sleep claimed Milo instantly, but, as per usual, as tired as Ben thought he was, he ended up staring at the ceiling for what could’ve been twenty minutes or two hours, he wasn’t sure. Unlike all of those dreary nights previously, however, when the creature of menace crept up Ben’s spine, dripping poison in his ear, whispering of self-loathing, of doubt as night descended, Ben found that, even though he wasn’t able to silence the spectre, he could look to Milo’s slumbering face, pink lips parted and eyes darting beneath the lids, and the voice of the shadow would fade, albeit briefly.

***

Unable to discern the hour, Milo blinked in the darkness of Ben’s room, the soft sounds of his breathing beside him, and hesitantly tried to extricate himself without disturbing Ben’s rest. Turning on his phone’s flashlight, he found Ben’s script, padding to the livingroom and snagging a box of crackers before parking on the couch.

Emerging blearily from the bedroom an hour later, Ben discovered Milo, blowing his nose into a wad of toilet paper, eyes red and puffy.

“Milo!” Ben rushed to join him on the couch. “Are you okay? What’s...what’s wrong? It’s not…” Face falling, Ben shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to deal with, I—“

“Ben, no, no.” Voice waterlogged, Milo chuckled. “It’s this.” Holding the script aloft, he smiled. “I just finished it, and…” Shaking his head, Milo’s sculpted jaw hung open. “Amazing. Brilliant. I just…” Clutching his hands to his heart, Milo looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “I love it so much. And the scene at the end? Where Troy makes the eulogy to no one?  _ Ugh!”  _ Milo grasped Ben’s shoulder, falling forward dramatically. “My poor gay heart. I died.”

“Really?” Face radiant, Ben took Milo’s hand. “You really like it?”

“I  _ love  _ it!” Milo gushed. “You have to shop this around. Get this thing made. It’s fantastic.”

“Oh…” Ben shook his head and pulled a face. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff, Milo.”

Considering for a moment, Ben could almost see the cogs working behind Milo’s deep blue eyes before he clapped his hands, bouncing. “I think I might know someone who does! He’s not…” Tipping his head from side to side, Milo inhaled with a hiss. “The greatest guy...but he definitely would know who and how and everything.”

“Oh, well…” Ben smiled sheepishly. “If you really think it’s worth it…”

“I do.” Taking his face in both hands, Milo grinned. “And I’m going to play that part. You bet your ass.”

Ben laughed. “Definitely. No one else could.”

Milo bent forward to kiss him and it caught him a bit off guard when Ben’s hand hooked around the back of his neck, holding his lips near, and his mouth parted, tongue swirling inside. Tilting his head, Milo licked into his mouth and Ben let out a soft sigh. Milo was tempted to crawl into his lap, but knew that would be far too tender with his injuries, so he buried his hands in his sandy blond hair, sinking into him.

“Bedroom?” Ben parted from his lips, green eyes alight.

Milo smiled. “Yeah.”

Scurrying back down the hall, once the door closed Ben peeled off Milo’s shirt. Well, his own shirt, fingers dancing through his dark chest hair before he yanked Milo close, breaking away to kiss down his neck and nip at his earlobe.

Milo wasn’t expecting Ben to be in the mood, and he didn't want to ruin things, but the question on his mind nagged him and he couldn’t ignore it. “Ben…” Placing a hand to his chest, Ben lifted his head and looked at him. “How, um…” Milo glanced down toward his legs and swallowed. “How do you want to do this? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Shit.” Considering his legs, Ben closed his eyes. “Fuck. How could I be that stupid?” Laying his head back, he sighed. “I should’ve...I don’t know, done my arms or something. Damn it.”

Milo wanted to tell him he shouldn’t have done it at all, but he didn’t want to shame Ben while he was struggling. “We...we can just do other stuff.” Cupping his cheek, Milo smiled. “It’s fine. It won’t take long and it’ll...they’ll heal.”

Ben nodded morosely. “Alright, well…” Getting close, Ben wanted to recapture the heat between them, wanted to forget about the hate and misery fogging his brain for at least a few passionate moments. Fusing their lips together, he guided Milo back onto the bed, inching off his boxers. But when he laid down, taking Milo’’s cock in hand, Milo noticed his grimace. 

“”Ben….do you want to try a different position?””

Standing, Ben put his hands on his hips and bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah...yeah, do you want to sit on the edge of the bed? Kneeling should be okay.” 

“Sure.” Milo shifted and Ben dropped to his knees before him. Taking Milo’s cock into his mouth, Ben was relieved to have something to focus on, something to which he could apply his energies that didn’t involve loathing the very essence of himself or what little he managed to make of his shitty life. As Ben bobbed, jerking Milo toward his lips as his fingers trickled through his hair, he hoped, in some minuscule way, Milo understood how grateful he was.

Grateful for Milo’s giggle. That no matter how much his own depression wore him down, tried to drag him to the earth’s crust and crush him under its weight, Milo was able to exude his high pitched mirth. Face scrunching, left eye a sliver, overbite exaggerated and rocking helplessly, to Ben there was possibly no more stunning sight in the world and the sound made him believe that happiness maybe, just maybe, was possible.

Grateful for how Milo’s cobalt eyes looked at him. Never as others did. Milo didn’t see Ben as crazy, a lunatic, a freak show. No. His gaze held adoration. Respect. Love. Milo treated Ben like a human. A real person who just happened to struggle with demons he couldn’t shake. And perhaps it should be a small thing, to receive dignity from another person. But to Ben, it was monumental.

Grateful for Milo’s attitude. When life tried to fuck him, nine times out of ten, Milo blew a kiss, gave the finger, and kept right on strutting. A paragon of self-reliance and a low-key badass, even with all the words in his lexicon, Ben could never express how deeply he admired Milo for being who he was and not apologizing.

But more than anything, Ben was grateful for Milo’s love. The way Milo’s crooked, goofy smile greeted him when Milo opened the door. The way his huge hands traversed his body, hungry and needy, as if Ben were actually somehow, mind-bogglingly desirable to this ethereal creature who, for reasons unknown, graced him with his presence. The way Milo talked in his sleep. Almost always unintelligible, flubbing words sneaking past his pink lips as he twitched, Ben wishing he could make out the lyrics to his dreams. The way Milo said his name. Flinty voice caressing the single syllable as though it were a precious jewel; warming, savoring. The way Milo fell asleep in his arms, hopelessly trying to make himself tiny, scrunching in closer with little soft noises of delight until he notched perfectly, his strong, supple body a treasure Ben couldn’t fathom how he unearthed.

As Milo rocked into the heat of Ben’s throat, his heels dug into the carpet and he tossed his head back. “ _ Oh Ben! Yes! Suck me!” _ Milo tried to be quiet for Lolly’s sake, but Ben’s ministrations were proving the task difficult. Ben burrowed him deeper, hollowing his cheeks and fondling Milo’s balls until he collapsed back on the bed, thrusting into Ben’s mouth.

“ _ Ben! Ben, yes! Fuck!” _ High whimpers dripping from his lips, Milo’s legs kicked out and his fingers dug into Ben’s scalp. “ _ Fuck! Ben, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” _ Milo emitted a rolling whine, starting deep and ending with a piercing note as though he were asking Ben a question at the height of his euphoria, writhing before his hips leapt forth, hot cum draining into Ben’s eager throat as he shivered. 

As Ben rose, wiping his mouth, Milo recovered slightly, sitting up and chest heaving. Smiling, he claimed Ben’s mouth for a kiss before looking down. “Do you want to do it the same way?”

“Sure.” Ben nodded, joining him on the edge of the bed. 

Milo went to the floor, then paused. “Ben, um….” Coming back to the mattress, Milo touched his arm. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to ask. And if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But is there…” Gritting his teeth, the muscle in Milo’s crisp jaw flickered. “Is there anything I could do? That would help you...stop? You know…” Milo glanced down. “Because I...I understand why you do it, honey, I really do, but...but I…” Taking Ben’s hand, Milo blinked. “If there’s another way to get through this, I’d like to help you find it.”

Ben let out a heavy sigh. “Well. I’ve been doing this for…” Puffing out his cheeks, Ben shook his head. “Over 20 years. And therapists have been trying to help me stop for basically that long, too. So…” Smiling sadly, he lifted a shoulder. “I really can’t think of anything. I do know one guy,” Ben tilted his head. “Who used to do it a lot. And now he just gets a ton of tattoos instead. I wouldn’t mind trying that, but…” Ben shrugged, and held up a hand, rubbing his thumb and fingers together. “Expensive.”

“Hmm…” Milo nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense. Too bad though.” Nudging Ben, he made his prominent dark eyebrows dance. “You’d look really sexy with tattoos.”

Chuckling, Ben bumped back into Milo. “Yeah, well...I also had a therapist who suggested that, since I wasn’t going to stop, it would be better to make it a kind of ‘harm reduction’ thing. Like, so you know how drug addicts, some clinics will give out free, clean needles? Because they know people aren’t going to stop using, but they want to stop the spread of disease and stuff like that?”

“Sure.” Bobbing his head, Milo crossed his arms.

“So this therapist, he suggested that since I was obviously going to keep cutting, I should try sexual cutting.” Milo’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched. “Make it a sexy, fun thing instead of being about, you know…” Voice falling, Ben looked away and muttered quickly. “Hating myself or anxiety or whatever.”

“Oh, Ben, I…” Unconsciously backing away, Milo shook his head. “I’m sorry, I...I don’t think I could ever do that to you…”

“Oh.” Ben chuckled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “No, Milo, I’m not asking you to. I wasn’t into it. There’s nothing ‘hot’ about this for me.” Shaking his head, Ben held up his knobby hands. “But I admit, if there was a way to switch the lanes in my brain like that, it’s a good idea and I would probably feel better. But don’t worry. I don’t want to try it.”

Sighing in relief, Milo nodded. “Okay, good.” After a beat of silence, Milo leaned in. “Would you ever...maybe think about calling me? When you get the urge to do it? So we can talk? I promise…” Milo squeezed Ben’s hand. “I wouldn’t try to make you feel guilty, or anything. Maybe just distract you until it got a little easier to deal with. You can listen to my silly ass babble for an hour.” Tossing up a hand, Milo stuck out his tongue and made a funny face, causing Ben to laugh. “And then maybe, it...I don’t know. It might be a bit easier to get past, you know?”

Smile fading, Ben swallowed. “Yeah, but...but Milo, when I’m at that place. At a...you know, a ‘10’ or whatever, I’m not…” Biting his lip, Ben shook his head. “I’m not...pleasant. I can be a real piece of shit to people, actually. Poor Lolly…” Ben looked at his door and sighed. “She’s a saint. I don’t know how she lives with me.”

“Still…” Milo bent forward. “Would you try? Even if you call and just listen to me on the other line. It’s...it’s worth a shot, right?”

Caressing Milo’s thick thigh, Ben gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Okay, beautiful. I’ll try.”

“Alright.” Grinning, Milo carded his fingers through Ben’s hair before fusing their lips together. Large hand cascading down Ben’s chest, he removed his cock from his sweatpants, giving him a couple of pumps before slipping to his knees. Ben sat with his legs far apart and Milo slurped down the length of his stiff cock, inhaling him vigorously as Ben’s fingers worked into his short, dark locks.

“Mmm...Milo,  _ yes!” _ Ben gasped, arching into his warmth. “ _ Your mouth! You feel so good…” _

As Milo consumed him, he tried not to think about the hurt beneath the thighs surrounding his moving head. Tried not to think about how this man, whom he loved so completely, despised himself beyond measure. How could he not see? How could Ben not see his value, his worth? 

Why couldn’t Ben see how talented he was? How he expertly laced together language like a craftsman working on an intricate garment, eyes narrowed and mind firing as Ben summoned a creation from nothing, and then shrugged at the gorgeous prose as though anyone could do it.

Why couldn’t Ben see how beautiful he was? How his body, all angles and casual grace, draped itself over any surface with ease, effortlessly sexy, even the slightest glimpse of him tugging at the pit of Milo’s gut with desire and awe.

Why couldn’t Ben see how kind he was? How he showered Milo with flowering praise, how he remembered every inane detail Milo told him about his coworkers and their idiosyncrasies and annoyances, and would follow up regularly. How, even though he said it made him feel silly and Milo suspected he actually resented it, Ben ran lines with him, self-consciously shifting his weight and looking away whenever the scene called for a blatant emotion, but pushing through regardless because he would do anything to help Milo succeed.

Why couldn’t Ben see he deserved love? A good life? Happiness? Milo knew it wasn’t a simple answer. Knew there wasn’t one reason. Most of Milo even knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it. But he hoped, as Ben shuddered above him, whispering his name repeatedly, his agile hands playing in Milo’s hair with the tenderest of touches, that someday, Ben would recognize a hint, a glimmer, of himself as Milo saw him. Beloved.


	7. 7

Tapping the ash from his cigarette, Milo draped an arm over his crossed legs, wondering if he would ever truly rid himself of the smell of the kitchen as he waited for Ben to arrive. Ancient sedan rolling to a stop before him, Ben hopped out to open the door. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hey.” Milo swept in for a quick peck before folding his tall frame in the passenger seat, but as he did so he noticed a tightness around Ben’s lips, a hesitancy in his green eyes.  _ Shit, I thought he was feeling better… _

Knobby fingers gripping the wheel, Ben bopped distractedly to the music, hanging a left toward Milo’s apartment before Milo reached forward to turn down the volume. “Hey, so...how was your day?”

“Well…” Ben bit his lip as they slowed at a stoplight. “I...well, Lolly just told me…” Holding an apprehensive breath, Ben accelerated. “She and Teresa are moving in together. So…” Eyebrows lifting in defeat, Ben’s mouth settled into a flat line. “I...I have to figure something out. Fast.”

“Oh…” Sitting back in his seat, Milo played with the edge of his apron for a moment in silence. “Would you wanna...come to my place? Maybe?”

Whipping his head to Milo in disbelief, Ben hurriedly returned his focus to the road and blinked. “You mean...live together?”

Milo lifted a broad shoulder, smiling. “Yeah. Why not?”

Hands vice-like on the steering wheel as he neared Milo’s building, Ben swallowed. “Are...Milo, I don’t want you to do this just because you feel sorry for me not having anywhere to go.”

“I’m not.” Squeezing Ben’s lithe thigh, Milo’s crooked grin surfaced. “I’ve actually thought about it before and, um…” Fingers splayed excitedly, Milo’s dark eyebrows heightened. “I think it could be really great.”

Beaming behind folded lips, Ben peeked over at Milo. “You really think we’re ready? We won’t drive each other crazy?” 

“Ben, honey…” Milo bent over the center console, ruffling Ben’s sandy blond hair and kissing his cheek. “We’re already crazy. We got this. Trust me.”

***

Ben anticipated stress. Anticipated an arduous day, a sore back. What he didn’t anticipate about moving in with Milo was how difficult it would be to make it through the process without dragging him to the bedroom before they got halfway done unloading the truck.

Much like his personality, Milo’s technique for hauling boxes proved equal parts soft and strong. Hoisting each parcel in his firm arms, Milo’s faded Cyndi Lauper t-shirt screamed across his expansive shoulders, sticking to an oval of sweat on his wide back as Milo took his signature swishy steps up the stairs. 

“Whew…” Milo pulled his collar up to wipe the moisture from his face, exposing his belly pudge and Ben couldn’t help but give an adoring pat. “Almost done?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, Ben looked over his shoulder. “Just the odds and ends now.”

Soon they stood in Milo’s kitchen, hardly able to wedge themselves among Ben’s stacked belongings. “Uh...Milo?” Making an aggrieved face, Ben glanced from side to side. “Are you really sure it’s all going to fit?”

Milo threw back a glass of water, bobbing his head. “Oh sure.” Waving a large hand dismissively, Milo flicked a stack of boxes with a flourish. “We’ll figure it out. I can always get rid of some stuff to Goodwill or whatever.”

“Okay…” Skeptical, Ben shrugged and leaned against the counter. Emerald gaze crawling over Milo, he raised an eyebrow. “Well...at least the bed is unencumbered…”

Left eye shrinking with a giggle, Milo swayed forward, draping his arms over Ben’s shoulders. “True…” 

Ben caught Milo’s pink lips, tugging him close by the love handles as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. Fingers working into Ben’s flaxen tresses, he took half a step back and knocked over a box that sounded as though the contents were exceptionally heavy when crashing to the floor. “Oops.” Ben stretched out his lower lip. “Yeah, maybe...eyes open.”

“Yeah.” Milo tittered, following Ben’s lead as they carefully wove their way to the mattress, collapsing on top with a mutual sigh. 

Opening his legs, Milo locked his ankles behind Ben’s back with a contented giggle and Ben broke away, resting his chin on Milo’s chest. “I’m so happy that I get to wake up to your gorgeous face everyday.”

“Me too.” Caressing Ben’s cheek, Milo wiggled them back and forth until Ben laughed.

“So…” Ben underlined Milo’s lower lip with his thumb, smirking. “You think we’ll get bored of each other?”

Milo shook his head. “Nah. I think we’ll find ways to keep things…” Snagging the hemline of Ben’s shirt, Milo kissed a smile onto his face. “Interesting.”

“Oh yeah?” Tossing his shirt away, Ben rolled his hips, beginnings of his erection evident through their jeans. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Mmm…” With a coquettish bite of the lip and bat of the lash, Milo tucked his square chin down, fingers dawdling across Ben’s collarbone. “I don’t know...maybe you want to…” Milo shrugged his vast shoulders, expressive eyebrows popping. “Boss me around. A little…”

“Oooh…” Sitting back on his knees, Ben’s palms slid up Milo’s broad body, alongside his unfurling cock, over his little belly, until he fisted in his brunette tendrils. “You wanna play rough?” Ben yanked Milo up with a gasp, chuckling. “Huh, beautiful?”

Shiver alighting over his pale flesh, Milo nodded as much as he was able in his restricted position. “Yeah…” Mouth hanging open, he went for the button of Ben’s jeans. “Come on.”

“Hey.” Ben swatted him away, snatching Milo’s wrist and pinning it overhead. “No.” Voice a sultry valley, Ben lowered himself, dipping in to kiss Milo’s neck. “Not until I say so…” Pelvis gyrating, Ben ground them together, nipping at Milo’s joined earlobe before he rested back with a wicked smile. “Get naked for me, gorgeous.”

Milo sat up hesitantly. “Oh...okay.” 

Starting to peel his shirt overhead, Ben touched a hand to his sharp elbow and wagged a finger in the air. “No. Slower.” Ben crossed his arms, grinning. “Give me a show.”

“Oh…honey...” Impish smile decorating his wide mouth, Milo giggled and his dark brows rose on his high forehead in challenge. “You got it.”

If one activity came naturally to Milo Dean, it was performing. And, ostentatious to the extreme, Milo fully stood on the bed, hips undulating and wrists atwirl as he launched into his best, ‘boom shaka lacka’ porno music score, causing Ben to break out in raucous laughter. 

Falling over on the mattress in mirth, Ben gazed admiringly up at Milo as he shimmied off his t-shirt, exposing inch after inch of pallid skin donned with fluffy black hair. “Damn…” Ben smeared a wrist through the tears of amusement lining his emerald eyes and plucked at the calve of Milo’s jeans, currently bouncing with utter abandon. “I love you so fucking much. I don’t know how you can be so hilarious and so sexy at the same time.”

“Easy.” Milo flung his Cindy Lauper shirt into the fray of Ben’s clutter and turned around, tiny ass shaking without shame as he peeked over his shoulder at Ben with a demure expression, big hand covering pouted lips. “Gay charm.”  
Chuckling, Ben hooked his fingers into Milo’s waistband as he unzipped his jeans, greedily exposing his diminutive asscheeks as Milo continued to dance. 

“Whoa!” Attempting to spin, Milo apparently forgot his pants were around his ankles and toppled. Thankfully Ben’s wiry arms were there to dampen his fall, and they became a tumble of giggling limbs. “Thanks.” Milo’s crooked, goofy grin radiated up at Ben as he cleared the chestnut waves from his face before flowing a hand down his plush body. 

Creeping beneath the waistband of Milo’s boxers, Ben swept in to capture his pink lips. “Mmm...so…” Ben grasped Milo’s soft cock and stroked delicately until Milo mewled with need. “Are you gonna be good for me? Huh, Milo? Roll over and let me fuck you so damn hard?”

“Oh fuck...yes…” Nodding urgently, Milo’s heels kicked the headboard as he stiffened under Ben’s fingers and licked into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me so badly.”

Ben’s teeth closed over Milo’s lower lip, stretching with devilish purpose as he squeezed the wide head of his cock. “Mmm…” Releasing, Ben effortlessly flipped Milo over, leaving him surprised and delighted as to how his slender arms managed to haul his taller frame around with such ease before he shrugged Milo’s pants and boxers off the rest of the way. 

Retrieving the lube and a condom from the bedside drawer, Ben squeezed out a dollop before warming the sticky liquid in his hands. Spreading Milo’s little asscheeks, Ben’s fingers painted over his tight hole as he snatched at Milo’s brunette tresses and arched his spine back with a snarl. “Tell me how bad you want it, beautiful.”

“Oh fuck, Ben.  _ Yes!”  _ Milo came to his hands and knees, rocking back, attempting to draw Ben into himself and failing as Ben easily maintained the distance. “ _ I need you inside me! Fuck! Please!” _

“Oh yeah?” Teasing the restrictive circle of muscle, Ben licked the curve of Milo’s joined ear and a deep chuckle sent an eruption of goosebumps over Milo’s wan flesh. “Why should I? Huh, gorgeous?” 

Nudging his hips backwards with a needy gasp, Milo tried to nod, but Ben’s fist in his dark hair prevented his square chin from moving far. “ _ I want it! Please, Ben! Now!” _

“Oh Milo, my sweet love…” Ben tittered mischievously, teeth dragging over Milo’s neck as he pushed a single knuckle within his warm depths, only to retreat immediately, eliciting a whine of dismay from Milo. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

“You can--” Milo bit his lip as he looked up at Ben with hesitant azure eyes. “Well… we… did you get your results yet? From the clinic?” 

Four days past they both went in for their biannual STI check up, and Milo breathed a sigh of relief when his panel came back clear, but as of yet forgot to ask Ben about his own. “Oh yeah, I’m good.” Ben nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, same. So…” Milo swallowed significantly, smirk blossoming as he lifted a vast shoulder. “Maybe...you wanna...cum inside me? Hmm?”

An irrepressible shiver rocked over Ben’s narrow frame and he inadvertently sank two fingers halfway into Milo in his anticipation. “Oh, I…” Ben stammered as Milo’s left eye fluttered and he rolled his pelvis. “Yeah. Yeah, if...if you’re comfortable with that. Fuck…” Curling into Milo’s prostate as he hooked an arm around and hugged his soft middle, Ben kissed the nape of his ivory neck. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you so damn badly, Milo.”

“Oh fuck,  _ yes! Yes!”  _ Forehead falling to the sheets, Milo laid his palms flat and drove back onto Ben’s hand with a twittering moan. “ _ Ben! I wanna feel you inside! Fuck me raw, Ben! Do it now! Please! Fuck! Fuck!” _

Ben wanted to make Milo beg. Wanted to tease him into insanity and rile the stunning man beyond oblivion. But the vulnerable notes of euphoria flowing from Milo’s pink lips paired with the thrashing of his bewitching body, his innards clenching around Ben’s fiddling fingers, proved too tempting. “Oh fuck...Milo…” 

Extracting his hand, Ben slathered his cock in lube and poked the tip to Milo’s entrance. “You ready, beautiful?”

“ _ Fuck yes!”  _ Milo hammered a fist to the mattress in tantrum, flinty voice cracking. “ _ Fuck me now, Ben! Please!” _

Surging forward into the intoxicating clutch, Ben groaned as he claimed Milo’s hips, Milo huffing and clawing at the sheets in ardor. “Oh... _ oh Ben! Yes! Fuck!” _

“Mmm...Milo…” Eyes shut and pelvis rotating, with ragged breath Ben reached a glistening hand around to encapsulate Milo’s pleading purple cock. “You feel so damn good,  _ fuck! _ ”

All Milo could utter was, “ _ Uh huh… _ ” as he speared onto Ben with fervor, firm chest heaving and thick thighs pistoning wildly. “ _ Uh huh! Uh huh! Oh...oh Ben! Fuck me! Harder! Oh...oh fuck!” _

Vigorously stroking Milo’s massive cock, Ben pounded with ruthless intensity, slapping a palm over his diminutive ass. “ _ Fuck! Yes, Milo! I love being inside you, beautiful! Cum on my cock, Milo! Cum for me! I love making you cum! Fuck, Milo! Yes!” _

High shrieks began tumbling from Milo unbidden as his creamy skin broke out in rivulets of sweat. Milo slammed back onto Ben’s barreling cock, shapely legs shaking and crisp jaw dangling. “ _ Oh fuck! Ben! You’re gonna make me cum! I’m gonna cum so hard! Yes, Ben, yes! Fuck me! Keep going! Don’t stop! Fuck! I love you! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” _

Ben pulled Milo up by a handful of brown hair, angling himself mercilessly into his throbbing prostate as his wrist flashed over Milo’s huge cock. “ _ Yes, Milo! Fucking cum! Cum for me! Now, Milo! I love you! Cum for me! Cum on my cock! Cum! Cum, Milo! Fuck! Yes!” _

Limbs splaying at odd angles, Milo dropped face first into the mattress, panting a moist spot. Milo violently seized, ropes of cum shooting over the sheets and he constricted around Ben’s hammering cock.

“ _ Oh...FUCK!”  _ Ben cried, molding against a prone Milo, hips jerking erratically as the cinch of Milo’s warm depths overwhelmed and he flooded him with hot cum. “ _ Fuck!  _ Fuck…”

Sated and clamoring for oxygen, Ben and Milo lazily embraced, Ben skipping half exerted kisses over Milo’s wide back. “Fuck...Milo, I love you so much…”

“I love you, too, Ben…” Milo exhaled, a big weary hand falling over Ben with a wonky grin as they remained united, drifting off into an exhausted sleep for their first night in their shared home.

***

Though Milo did indeed part with a beloved purple rattan chair to accommodate Ben’s belongings, within a week the two were cozily ensconced in his humble apartment and puttering along swimmingly, fresh goldfish included. 

But, as with most situations of the kind, both Milo and Ben discovered new idiosyncrasies about their partner they would never have known without living together. For instance, not until Milo came home from the restaurant early one afternoon, a power outage rendering their computer system useless, did he have the faintest inkling Ben could sing, a deep, sonorous voice belting out a few bars of Johnny Cash’s ‘Hurt’ from the shower as he walked in the door.

“Oh…” Ben emerged, scrubbing a towel through his damp hair and smiling. “Hey babe, didn’t know you were home. How are you? I thought you weren't supposed to be done until eight?”

“Oh yeah, got off early. I’m good, but…” Pointing toward the bathroom, Milo pursed his lips, dark brows knit. “Were you...was that you singing?”

Blush invading his cheeks, Ben tried to hide his face behind the towel. “Oh yeah, I, um...sorry.” Clearing his throat, Ben disappeared into the bathroom for a moment before rummaging in their closet for a fresh shirt, eyes averted all the while. “I...I thought I was alone, so…”

Aside from their duets in the car, during which Milo could barely hear Ben’s bass over the roar of the speakers, he never got a chance to listen to his voice. “Please, don’t apologize.” Milo rubbed a hand over his back and smiled. “You’re really good. You sound so...sexy.”

“You think so?” Ben arched a brow in disbelief and Milo folded his lips under, nodding exuberantly as he twisted on the spot with effusive glee.

“Yes. I love how your voice is so…” Sea of his eyes awash with lust, Milo forgot to blink as he soaked in Ben’s dewy skin, his clothes adhering in all the right places. “Deep…”

Needless to say, Ben dressed for no reason that afternoon. And Ben unearthed an adorable quirk of Milo’s when he saw Milo’s number one, favorite way to unwind after a rough week at the restaurant was to paint his toenails.

Ben noticed their manicured, colorful surface before, of course. But he never watched Milo undergoing the process. Sapphire eyes mismatched in their concentration and broad back hunched, Milo would bite his pink lip; dab, dab, dabbing the tiny brush with his sizable hand until all ten of the toes on his large feet sparkled. The expression of pleased accomplishment on Milo’s handsome face when he wiggled the little digits in the air for the first time as they dried, crooked grin below a glittering gaze of pride, never failed to clench Ben’s heart from that day on.

About a month after they joined lives and materials, Milo received an email which left him blinking in shock at his phone. “Oh, wow, I...I almost forgot.”

“What?” Stirring a pot of half done pasta, Ben looked up and lowered the heat on the burner controlling the sauce to reduce the risk of splattering.

“Oh...I just…” Milo scrolled, reading as he nodded. “Remember that guy I told you about? The one who might be able to help you with your script? Andrew? Well, I sent it to him, like forever ago, and I never heard back so I thought he just blew me off, but…” Smile blooming, Milo lowered his arm. “He read it and said he wants to have lunch to discuss it whenever I’m free!”

“Holy shit, really?” Dropping the ladle in his excitement, Ben’s emerald eyes widened. “That’s great! When do you want to go? I’m free anytime. Whatever works for you guys.”

Nostrils flaring, Milo gripped his phone in apprehension. He conveniently failed to tell Ben up until this point about his history with Andrew. “Well, um...maybe...maybe for the first meeting I should go alone…” Biting the inside of his cheek, Milo’s dark blue eyes shifted. “Just to kind of...feel him out, you know? Get a sense of what he thinks about everything. Maybe…”

“Oh.” Lower lip protruding as he considered, Ben shrugged. “Yeah, if you think that’s best, sure. You know way more about this stuff than I do. Just let me know if you need me to do anything.”

“Will do.” With his sin of omission, an acrid layer of guilt coated Milo’s stomach before giving Ben’s lanky arm a squeeze, retrieving the parmesan from the refrigerator and swatting the matter from his mind as they sat down to dinner.

***

Scarf of burnt orange and browns draped elegantly around his pale throat, Milo’s foot jiggled nervously in the air, muscular legs crossed while he puffed on a cigarette and ignored the dirty looks from other patrons of the Malibu cafe, waiting for Andrew to arrive.

“Milo-fucking-Dean!” Snakeskin smooth voice ringing out from behind, Milo whipped around to see Andrew, firm arms spread and tan face bearing a shark-like smile. “In the flesh.”

“Well…” Milo stood, glancing down at his outfit, which he ashamedly changed five times before heading out for their rendezvous. Arching a prominent brow and shrugging, Milo stomped out his cigarette with a chuckle. “Not quite.”

Andrew tugged Milo into an embrace, middles meeting and fingers lingering over the nape of Milo’s neck. “Oh don’t worry, I remember…”

Every dark hair on Milo’s body stood to attention as they parted, blotches of pink flooding his sharp cheekbones as he gestured to the small table previously claimed. “Shall we?”

“Why not? I love this place. Come here all the time.” Ensconcing his fit body in the expensive chair as though he owned the whole damn establishment, Andrew glanced around cooly, fingers smoothing through his overlong processed tresses. “You know last week Gwyneth and I…  
Milo instinctually tuned Andrew out at this point. The man loved to flash his proximity to fame, incessantly dropping his first-name-only connections to celebrities. And though Milo admittedly found himself dazzled by Andrew’s status as a Hollywood producer. The Porsche, the extravagant house, the designer clothes. In truth, he never once spotted Andrew with any one of these actors with whom he claimed to be so chummy. And sometimes Milo wondered, though perhaps his own self-loathing played tricks, if Andrew really possessed access to the A-list, why would he bother fucking a nobody waiter with barely a walk-on role to their resume?

Sensing no lull in Andrew’s diatribe, Milo lit a fresh cigarette, nodding politely. Milo learned long ago this could be more than enough fuel to keep Andrew talking to himself, but finally he interjected. “So...the script I sent you? You read it?”

“Oh yeah. Loved it. Brilliant.” Andrew didn’t look up at Milo as he studied the menu and motioned for the waitress. “Great stuff. Really great.”

“Yeah?” Leaning in, Milo tapped off his ash. “So do you think we could shop it around? Like, who do you think might be interested in directing? Or what stu--”

Andrew held up a palm with a carefree chuckle. “Now, now, Milo, what’s the rush? I mean… Hang on-- Sweetheart!” Calling out to the waitress with a smarmy grin, Andrew beckoned with two fingers. “A moscow mule? Classic? Thanks.” Milo glanced at the server and spotted her expression of disgust, but clearly Andrew didn’t notice or care. “I mean, what’s it been, Milo? Almost a year. I haven’t…” Hand sliding across the tabletop to cover Milo’s with a not-so-subtle lick of his lips, Andrew made his eyebrows dance. “ _ Seen  _ you in so long.”

“Oh yeah, well, I…” Trying to retract his arm, Andrew’s grip became alarmingly firm. “I’m with someone, so…”

“So?” Andrew pouted his lips in what he clearly thought to be a seductive expression, and perhaps Milo once agreed. But in that moment he thought Andrew nauseating. “That never stopped you before.”

Clearing his throat, Milo yanked his fingers away. “Yeah well, I wasn’t in anything serious before.”

“Oh, I see.” Leaning back, Andrew crossed his arms behind his head with a knowing chuckle. “Got yourself a boyfriend there, huh? That the name on the script then? B-something?”

Milo supposed he should be relieved Andrew actually checked the title page. “Yes. Ben. He wrote the script.”

“Hmm. Well…” Andrew’s drink arrived and he accepted the copper cup from the waitress without thanks, tossing the entirety of the contents back before standing and unearthing his wallet. “You manage to shake him loose…” Flicking a twenty onto the table, Andrew fired a fingergun in Milo’s direction and winked. “You give me a call, baby.”

Andrew slithered away rapidly, leaving Milo agog at the glaringly awful nature of their interaction. 

Bus jostling Milo and his fellow passengers, he mulled over the brief, albeit repugnant, reunion with Andrew. Though true their paths failed to cross for many months, Milo didn’t think him that bad of a guy until today. Shallow, yes. Pretentious, definitely. But lust, or maybe even desperation, must have blinded Milo to the breadth of his monstrous nature. 

As his stop neared, Milo sighed heavily, unsure how he would explain the disappointing news to Ben. But as Milo reflected on the day’s events, a crooked grin painted his bemused face. For perhaps a reason existed for why Milo couldn’t see the demon lurking behind the plasticine mask of Andrew’s shiny exterior. Before meeting Ben, Milo Dean didn’t know what it meant to love a man who loved him back. Fully, completely, and without treating him like a sex toy to be used at leisure. 

And so, as he exited the bus, warm breeze twisting his scarf as he walked the last block to their apartment, though today didn’t bring about the anticipated big break, Milo counted himself fortunate all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read. If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom :-)


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